


Gears and Pistons

by Flames_of_Madness



Series: Gears and Pistons [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Deal With It, Gen, My precious, big ol' family, don't touch my children, i hurt my characters too much, ratchet's a softie, so much suffering, so much war, there's more fluff than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flames_of_Madness/pseuds/Flames_of_Madness
Summary: Toby Williams, a frightfully intelligent eighteen year old woman who thinks of nothing but stars and engines.For seven years, she has created her own inventions and studied the night sky in remembrance of her mother, Margret Hills. Her father, however, she would happily forget, having faced his blame since the day Margret died.But when an escape comes in the form of five non-biological beings from a planet by the name of Cybertron, she takes the opportunity bait, sinker, and line. Surely she will never face such hardships again as long as she sticks with them, right? It seems her destiny has not been set through the calmest of seas, but now she has five Autobots to call her friends and nothing appears to be able to stop this young inventor. And yet, she always picks the most dangerous of fights. The Autobots must learn quickly how to handle their new ally, though it does not always seem possible.And while she grows ever closer to the Cybertronians, the gears of fate start to turn, setting in motion things that have never before occurred in this universe.
Series: Gears and Pistons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661311
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

_" **Everything** has a beginning."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

It began with fire and ice.

Fire from the alien pod crashing through the atmosphere, and ice from the frigid air.

Trees bowed and cracked as the projectile flew past, leafy branches falling from the canopy. The few that stood strong soon crumbled to the raging fire that trailed the UFO, their dry trunks no match for this foreign flame.

The ground had parted for such a magnificent object, making way for the stranger to the world. Rocks had flown and boulders turned to dust, but the pod remained strong and willful, not a scratch flawing its structure. Never had this earth ever received an honour such as this. Never had any planet then, nor any day since.

Life grew silent as the metal pod, strewn with unrecognisable glyphs and symbols, came to a rest in the soft mud. Everything held its breath for the moment. And everything awed for the grand entity that arose from the spinning pieces.

It had no wish, nor means, to remain there any longer. And so, it fled into the darkened night, seeking that for hence it came, leaving nothing but an inkling of its past presence.

And there stood, to remain, a sight that brought the men of old to their knees and brings the women of new to their toes, inspiring many. This is _my_ story. And _this_ is how my whole universe changed in an instant.


	2. | | An Unexpected Member of an Unexpected Party | |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, this is some of my earlier writing. I assure you, it gets better.

_"One need not fear the darkness if they have but the stars to light the way."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

  
Sparks litter the concrete floor, spraying in all directions as they're commanded to weld two pieces of pipe together. A young woman stands at the source of the grinding metal; her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and a welder's mask shielding her face. Her project is an old Triumph TR65 Thunderbird—a grand motorbike in the making for roughly three years—and she would claim it to be her greatest creation. 

For five years Toby Williams has bent and molded metal into shapes of her own desire, though her thoughts often find her looking to the night sky of Los Angeles, California; often naming every star in sight and more. The night became an escape for the young woman, starting the day she watched the life fade from her mother's eyes as she lay in the hospital bed struggling for breath. Margret Hills—her mother's maiden name—had adored the stars and believed in life amongst them, and passed that belief down to her only daughter, who now studies the galaxies and solar systems beyond the visible universe. 

Now as the end of her high school years is in sight, Toby feels overwhelmed by the choices and responsibilities—though familiar with most—thrust into her inexperienced hands that are only trained to hold a welding stick and the delicate tools for studying the sky. Though the last two weeks of school have her screaming for freedom from her hell-hole of a house—and escape from her repetitive life. Every day is the same routine; get up early, eat breakfast, run for the bus, attend classes, miss out on lunch, attend more classes, run to the auto shop, work for five hours, walk home, avoid her father, eat a rushed dinner while doing homework, and go to bed. Nothing has changed since she was eleven years old; the year her mother died.

A blaring alarm rings deafeningly in the open workshop of the Auto Repair Shop, causing Toby to sigh lightly as she momentarily halts her work to shut up the mind-numbing sound. She lifts up her welders mask to locate the device creating the annoying noise; the fluorescent lights shining off her pale, sweat sheened cheeks and smoothing the details of her upturned nose. Icy blue eyes scan the surfaces of the workshop, growing quickly irritated from the infuriating sound ringing from her phone. A groan of annoyance leaves the young woman's lips as she discovers her phone on the table behind her, hidden beneath a pile of scattered blueprints of half-planned projects and inventions. 

She quickly picks the device up with a gloved hand and her eyes widen upon reading the glowing screen. Ten thirty. Good gods, how had she managed that? And with school in the morning too. After panicking slightly for a minute or so, Toby shuts down the welder and puts it away in its proper place before rolling away the "almost" complete motorcycle; she had practically completed it this time, now she only needed to give it a proper paint job and she could take it for a spin. The woman smiles to herself—a small piece of her growing freedom slotting into place.

With effective efficiency, Toby cleans up the small repair shop with a small grin on her face, unable to stifle the pride growing in her chest. Her gloves fly across the shop to land in a messy pile upon a small desk as she tosses them aside and ties her flannel shirt around her waist, revealing her toned arms. With a quick adjustment to her knee length denim shorts, she grabs her backpack from a hook on the wall. She's still smiling as she exits the shop from the back way—the employees only entrance that leads into a wide alleyway—and locks the door behind her. The smile only falters when she hears the sound of several engines echoing in the alley.

 _'What the hell?'_ A single car is unusual enough back here, but multiple? Not to mention the bizarre noise of clashing metal that definitely does not belong to regular vehicles. Ever the curious type, Toby walks silently towards the strange event that lies just out of her sight.

"Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendant of Archibald Witwicky?" Toby frowns, as the voice does not quite sound human, with a metallic 'ting' to it; though sounds deeply regal and authoritative.

"Yeah," a tentative voice replies softly.

"My name is Optimus Prime. We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron."

Her keys slip from her fingers as she steps out of the shadows, spotting the owner of the metallic voice.

The keys land on the ground with a loud jangle and the creatures turn suddenly to find the source of the sound. Five robotic figures—no, make that five gigantic robotic figures—stand in a circle around a pair of kids. Each robot is different, varying in height and colour, but all resemble cars in some way with automotive parts sticking out from their bodies. Their blue optics study her severely, judging her level of threat as she stands motionless before them.

Before she can blink, a large, cannon-like weapon is pointed at her head, glowing brightly as parts spin around its barrel. Her body freezes in place, but she stands in awe of the black robot that wields it.

"Who are you?" It— _he_ —demands, shoving the cannon closer to Toby's face.

"Toby Williams," she licks her suddenly dry lips, "th-this is not how I expected my night to go."

"Ironhide, lower your weapon, we do not harm humans," the blue and red robot commands, still studying the woman curiously.

"But she's a potential threat!" He argues.

"No I'm not," Toby scowls at the black robot as he scoffs. "What would I do? Go to the police? They'd think I'm a nutjob. Besides, I've looked to the stars enough to know that I don't want to cause trouble with those who came from them."

"The girl is wise," a neon yellow robot addresses Optimus, "there is little she can do to affect the plan."

With a grumble that sounds more like a revving engine, the black robot lowers his weapon and it folds seamlessly into his arm. The woman's eyes widen in wonder at his seemingly simple action before picking up her keys again.

"You can call us Autobots for short," the neon yellow one speaks again, his optics now shifting to observe the kids beside him.

Both children—if she can even call them that—look absolutely terrified and judging by the dirt smudged on their faces and clothes, had been through hell to get here. They look at her expectantly, hoping that she's going to drag them from this freakish nightmare but she barely spares them a glance, as she is too busy admiring the Autobots.

"So we can avoid any confusion—if you don't mind—could you tell us your names?" Toby clasps her hands in front of her, smiling at her discovery of an alien species.

Optimus straightens, recalling the conversation before the woman's interruption. He gestures to the silver Autobot, the smallest of the group, who flips into a sitting position. "My first lieutenant. Designation, Jazz."

"This looks a cool place to kick it," Jazz slouches on a beaten, old car behind him.

"What is that? How did he learn to talk like that?" The boy points to the silver Autobot, face full of confusion.

"Honestly, kid, they're autonomous robotic organisms from another planet; I'd say they have access to the internet." Toby chuckles lightheartedly, though grumbles at his inability to apply simple logic.

Optimus nods his head in reply to the woman's statement, proving her to be correct before gesturing to the black Autobot behind them, "My weapons specialist, Ironhide."

Ironhide's cannons spin out from their resting position, firing up with an orange glow. "Feeling lucky, punk?" He points them at the children, who back away slightly in fear while the young woman examines the moving parts of the weapons with fascination.

"I could disassemble your cannons in a heartbeat, so yes, I am feeling lucky," Toby places her hands on her hips in a cocky manner, her eyes challenging the gaze of the weapons specialist as she mentally studies him. 

"Easy, Ironhide," Optimus speaks gently, so as not to set off the trigger happy 'bot.

"Just kidding," Ironhide defends himself, "I just wanted to show them my cannons."

"As much as I'd appreciate a proper look at your weaponry, I've seen the proton cannons from the wrong end of the barrel two too many times today," the woman raises a brow to press her point, though she wears a giddy grin upon her lips.

"I like this femme," he smirks, prodding the woman with a digit in a friendly way, "she knows her stuff."

"Oh, I know a lot more than you think, 'big guy'," she pats his servo acceptingly, a knowledgeable glint in her eyes.

"Our medical officer, Ratchet." 

The medic sniffs the air. "The boy's pheromone level suggest he wants to mate with one of the females."

The couple look at the ground, the girl scratching the back of her head and the boy whistling lowly in awkwardness. Toby shuffles away from the boy, shuddering uncomfortably. "Well, you're certainly not mating with me, sunshine." 

In an attempt to break the awkward silence, Optimus speaks, gesturing to the last unintroduced Autobot. "You already know your guardian, Bumblebee." 

The youngest of the 'bots pretends to fight some invisible bad guys, blaring his speakers proudly. _"~Check on the rep, yeah second to none!"_

"So you're my guardian, huh?" The boy looks up at the yellow and black Autobot as he nods silently.

Ratchet points some sort of device at Bumblebee and a laser lands on the obviously younger Autobot's neck. "His vocal processors were damaged in battle," the medic switches off the device and taps it roughly, "I'm still working on it."

"Why are you here?" Toby speaks up, drawing the Autobots' gazes to her. "I mean, Earth is hardly the most interesting place out there, and I seriously doubt you're here sightseeing; so, why?"

"We are here looking for the Allspark. And we must find it before Megatron," Optimus states grimly, his optics boring into her soul.

"Mega-what?" The boy questions, his face emotionless.

"Megatron; he would be a Mega-who, dumb-dumb," the young woman looks at the boy, wondering exactly how stupid he is, "honestly, have you even been listening? What grade are you in, anyways?"

"Grade eleven."

"Oh great, he's one of 'those' idiots," Toby mutters to herself, though everyone hears her.

"Hey! I have a name!"

"Samuel James Witwicky, that's quite the laughable name," she says with a raised brow, "though I do admire your taste in cars; that 1977 yellow Chevrolet Camaro with black racing stripes you brought to the lake the other day?" The woman whistles lowly, "Good choice."

Bumblebee fist pumps the air, gesturing wildly to Toby as he whistles and beeps. The other Autobots sigh at his behavior and Jazz glares at the woman slightly for increasing his tiny ego.

"What's his problem?"

"That Camaro was Bumblebee," Sam explains stiffly.

"Well then, 'Bee, you've got good taste," Toby smirks at the 'bot's expression of delight as he whirs happily.

"If I may," Optimus interrupts the small social interaction with a small frown, "we have little time, and even less to explain."

"M'kay," Toby turns to face the giant Autobot, expectantly waiting for him to continue, "I— _we're_ listening."

Optimus taps the side of his blue helm, lighting his optics with lightning blue beams that form cracks in the cement below them. Several chunks of rock fall through; the stone endlessly spiraling down into the pits of a cruel world. Metal spires, decorated with harsh spikes littered with bodies, burst forth from the cracks, stopping only when they stood at a skyscraper's height.

"Our planet was once a powerful empire, peaceful and just, until we were betrayed by Megatron, leader of the Decepticons." Atop one of the spires, a grotesque being throws a spear at the only other living being in view, killing them on the spot. The creature laughs foully and his gaze settles on Toby, freezing her limbs in irrational fear. "All who defied them were destroyed. Our war finally consumed the planet, and the All Spark was lost to the stars. Megatron followed it to Earth, where Captain Witwicky found him."

Sam takes this moment to interrupt the Autobot leader. "My grandfather."

"Do me a favour, kid; shut up and listen, " Toby practically growls at the boy, her eyes eagerly observing the changing scene.

A blizzard swirls around the humans, and batters the coats of a small crew of men picking away at the ice around their ship. Each member looks desperate, cold, and scared; the chill freezing their panting breaths and gluing their eyelashes together. Two dogs, once held tightly by one of the men, slip from the suffering man's fingers, bounding after and barking at something unseen.

"It was an accident that intertwined our fates." The dogs begin digging desperately in the snow. Unaware of the likely danger, the men surround them with curiosity, only to scream when the ice cracks. A single man, with white hair and rounded glasses, falls through a hole in the ice, sliding out into a frozen cavern. He dusts himself off and studies his surroundings, crying out victoriously upon seeing the objects that don't belong. Frozen beneath a pile of snow, lies the leader of the Decepticons, his jaw agape in unforgotten hostility and though his optics no longer glow, they do not show any sign of surrendering to the eternity of death. "Megatron crash-landed before he could retrieve the Cube." The captain hesitantly touches a claw-like object wedged deep in the snow but turns upon hearing a whirring from the metallic beast. A flash of bright light surges from Megatron's optics, sending the man tumbling back with a cry as it blinds him. "He accidentally activated his navigation system. The coordinates to the Cube's location on Earth were imprinted on his glasses."

"How'd you know about his glasses?" Sam pipes up and Toby rolls her eyes, muttering something about 'stupid questions' and 'obvious answers'.

Optimus turns his gaze to the humans, banishing ancient memory. "EBay."

Toby smiles slightly and lifts a brow at the unnecessary majestic tone the Autobot had used. _'Damn, that sounded epic.'_

"If the Decepticons find the All Spark, they will use its power to transform Earth's machines and build a new army," the medic speaks sorrowfully, eyeing the humans carefully, though his optics linger on the young woman as he sees her assessing the situation and skillfully studying each individual Autobot.

"And the human race will be extinguished," the woman's head snaps back to look at the Autobot leader as he straightens his posture. "Sam Witwicky, you hold the key to Earth's survival."

"Please tell me that you have those glasses," the girl speaks for the first time, looking pleadingly at Sam.

"Good gods, you better have," Toby snaps, panic evident in her eyes before she takes a deep breath.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam nods rapidly, "They're-um-at my house-yeah, at my house."

"Which would be, where exactly?" The woman prods for an answer, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well-um-where are we?" Sam turns in a clumsy circle to attempt to spot anything recognisable. 

"Twenty second Wentford Avenue, Larkson Street is just on the other side of these buildings here." Toby explains swiftly, pointing over the repair shop.

"Huh," the boy gulps nervously, his eyes shifting to glance quickly at each Autobot.

"You have no idea where we are, do you, Samuel Witwicky?" The woman puts her head in her hands, groaning in annoyance.

Bumblebee whirs suddenly, apparently speaking to Optimus Prime who nods quickly and grumbles deeply in an unknown language to address the other 'bots. 

"Isn't that handy? 'Bee knows where you live," Toby looks at Sam scornfully.

Without any words spoken, the Autobots shift, their metal gears grinding and popping as they compact themselves into their alternate forms. The young woman watches mesmerized as the weapons specialist clanks down into a modified GMC Topkick pickup truck and reeves his engine.

"Noice," Toby spins to admire the other Autobots, finding gloriously new looking cars in their places. Optimus Prime has folded into a Peterbilt semi-truck, his red and blue flaming paint job glinting dazzlingly in the moonlight. A golden 2007 Chevrolet Camaro purrs proudly from where Bumblebee once stood, opening his doors to allow the kids in. Ratchet stands tall as an emergency Hummer, rumbling patiently as Toby gapes. Unhappy with the lack of attention, Jazz roars his engine as a Pontiac Solstice and nudges forward to gain the woman's gaze.

"Get in," Toby jumps as Jazz's voice blasts loudly from his speakers, "we don't have all night."

"Alright, alright! Keep your tires on!" The woman scrambles to reach the impatient 'car' who rumbles in annoyance as she hops in his passenger seat and swings her bag onto her lap. 

The Autobots roll out of the alley, following 'Bee as he leads them to Sam's residence. Toby takes her time to examine Jazz's interior, whistling lowly at the fine leather seats and polished wood dashboard. 

"What are you doing?" Jazz's voice speaks through his radio as the woman trails her fingers over the grooves in the door. 

"Admiring," she smiles, "I work with cars; I've never seen such a fine finish."

The Autobot reeves his engine proudly, causing the woman to laugh as he speedily overtakes Ironhide. 

"Watch it!" Ironhide growls through Jazz's radio, presumably on a com link. 

"Jazz?"

"What up, lil' lady?" 

"What do you say to putting on some music? It might lighten the urgent mood."

In response, Jazz spins through several radio stations, creating broken static before stopping on a station playing Thunderstruck by AC/DC. 

"Hmm, good choice."


	3. | | A Blown Transformer? | |

_"When darkness covers all that's good in the world, the stars are there to protect you until the dawn."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★  
  
  
  
  


The Autobot screeches to a stop, sending the young woman in his passenger seat flying into the dashboard with a small scream. Toby groans as she rubs her forehead in pain.

"Sorry 'bout that."

"Just warn me next time please," She grumbles quietly, recovering from her daze.

After a silent moment, only interrupted by the sound of mild panicking from 'Bee's charge, Jazz opens his passenger door so the woman can stumble out. With nothing short of mild amusement, Toby watches Sam practically beg on his knees for the Autobots to stay where they are before bounding over to a massive house, trampling the lawn in his haste.

"You're remarkably calm about all this," The girl mutters to the young woman who just looks confused.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Mikeala."

"Hello, Mikaela, I'm Toby," she chuckles to herself. "I've believed in aliens for a long time. I thought they'd look much different to this, but this isn't much to me."

"What do you mean 'this isn't much'? They're giant, talking robots!" Mikaela questions, wide eyed.

"Kid, they're not robots," Toby snaps, losing her patience with the disbelieving youth, "they're living beings; robots are tin cans with no sentience."

"Don't call me 'kid'," Mikeala glowers at the woman, receiving a scoff as a response. 

"Don't call them robots and I'll consider it," she shakes her head with a laugh as she watches Optimus ignore Sam's pleading command and transform into his bipedal self.

"Where are you going? You have to stay here!" Toby jumps as Mikeala suddenly cries out in desperation. "You'll be seen!"

The girl's pleas go unnoticed as the other Autobots begin to follow their leader as they transform as well.

With a breathless laugh, the woman pats Mikeala's shoulder. "You're fighting a losing battle there, darlin'."

After watching Mikeala run down the alleyway to get into the yard, Toby hops onto the lid of a nearby garbage bin and hauls herself over the high fence, dragging her backpack along with her. She lands in a bush, softening her fall but completely flattens the poor plant as she climbs out.

Brushing herself free of stray leaves, the woman looks up to see 'Bee gesturing frantically to keep the Autobot leader from going any further from where he stood. Despite his best efforts, Optimus continues to make his way closer to the back porch, though he does so quietly.

"I love you. God, I love you just so much right now," Toby bites her lip to keep from laughing at Sam's awkward attempt to keep his dad in the house.

"You know," Sam's dad looks reluctant, "Mom wanted me to ground you. You're three minutes late."

"Oh, well, just another thing you did for me, Dad," Sam spares a glance behind him, panic expressed clearly in his eyes as he glares slightly at the woman wheezing from restrained laughter, "because you're such a swell guy!"

"One more thing, huh?"

"Alright, I love you! Sleep good, you handsome man!" The second his father's out of sight, Sam whips around to face the approaching Autobots, looking ready to cry.

"That sounded so incredibly weird, man," Toby flashes the boy a grin.

"What are you doing? What are you doing?" Sam questions frantically, running out into the middle of the lawn, "No, watch the path! Watch the path!"

The woman grimaces at his high pitch but realises quickly why he's screaming. Optimus turns to face the boy, not noticing the obviously newly paved path through the flawless green grass and crushes some of the stones beneath his pedes. ' _Oops_.'

"Watch the... Please, please, please." Optimus steps back to avoid squishing the two humans, and his pede hovers over the fountain, "No, no, wait. No, no, no!"

The Autobot leader loses his balance and puts his weight on his hovering pede, effectively crushing the fountain to pieces.

"Sorry, my bad."

Toby chuckles lightly at how human the Autobot sounds but cringes as she imagines how Sam's parents will react upon seeing the absolute mess that is their backyard.

"You couldn't-you couldn't wait for five-you couldn't wait for five minutes?!" Sam splutters, gesturing wildly.

Mikeala slides around the house and upon seeing the mess of the yard, brings a hand to her mouth in horror as Sam turns on her, "I told you to watch them. I told you."

A sharp yap brings Toby's attention to the ground, discovering a tiny Chihuahua in a pathetic cast at the base of Ironhide's pede. She spares a distasteful glance at the ratty dog before standing beside Ratchet and tapping his stabiliser gently to gain his attention.

"I was wondering if I could get a better view?" She asks in a quiet voice, smiling sheepishly. The medic vents and lowers a servo, rolling his optics when the woman expresses her 'uncontainable' excitement with a high pitched squeak. "Sorry."

Ratchet only grunts in response while Toby confidently hops on his servo and watches Sam continue to panic. The Autobot cautiously lifts her to his shoulder, wary of dropping her.

"No!"

Toby's head whips around to view the situation, eyes widening as she sees the miniscule dog lift its hind leg and pee on Ironhide. _'This isn't going to end well.'_

"Mojo! Mojo! Off the robot!"

"They're not robots!" Toby hisses, making Ratchet raise his optic brows at her harshness.

"Urgh, wet." Ironhide kicks the dog away and lifts a pede to squash it.

Sam lunges forward, pulling Mojo back with incredible speed and shelters him in his arms. "No, no, no, no, no! Easy! Easy!" He holds his free hand up in panic as he tries to calm the weapons specialist. "Hold on! Hold on! This is Mojo. This is Mojo. He's a pet of mine. He's a pet."

Toby's face scrunches up in silent laughter, enjoying the teen's panic as Ironhide points his canons at the rat-like dog. She covers her mouth with a hand in a desperate attempt to keep her amusement from being vocalized, though her wheezes are _very_ much audible to the Autobot medic.

"If you could just put the guns away. Put the-put them away. Please," Sam splutters fearfully, eyes wide.

"You have a rodent infestation," The woman quietly agrees with Ironhide, grinning as he arms his canons, the parts spinning violently in a display of orange and red.

"A what?"

"Shall I terminate?" Toby snorts loudly, catching the attention of several optics before clapping another hand over her mouth.

"No, no, no—"

" _Yes_ ," that definitely earns Toby some looks, her dark tone making the Autobots concerned while she grins wildly.

"What?! No!" Sam shoots her a glare, though flinches a little at her expression.

"Please do it, the fewer of those rats the better," she crosses her arms casually, though holds the feral grin.

"He's not a rodent, he's a Chihuahua. This is-this is my Chihuahua. We love Chihuahuas! Don't we?" He looks to Mikaela for help, but she just looks back with a 'what's-that-going-to-do?' expression.

" _No_. They pee on everything," the woman states clearly.

"He's leaked lubricants all over my foot," Ironhide grumbles unhappily.

" _See?!_ " Toby waves her arms dramatically at the weapons specialist, stressing her point further.

"He peed on you? Bad Mojo! Bad!" Sam scolds his dog, holding him up to meet his eyes.

"Bad Mojo," the black Autobot points his canons disapprovingly, his tone completely serious.

"I'm sorry. He's got a male dominance thing. That's all it is."

"My foot's gonna rust," Ironhide backs off, turning away from the boy with disgust in his voice.

"Urine's not _that_ acidic, 'Hide, don't worry too much about it," Toby remarks dismissively, shaking her head. "If it does rust, I'll buff it for you!"

"Shut up and go hide!" Sam slams the screen door in his panic, leaving the girls and the Autobots to their own devices while he searches.

"Just hurry," Optimus sighs with remarkable tolerance.

"Wow, rude much," the woman scoffs in amusement, gaining a few agreeing 'hmm's in reply.

"Autobots, recon," the Prime gestures to the group.

Toby smiles to herself, happy to be apart of something she could have so easily passed by. Had she left the shop any earlier, she would have been gone before they arrived. And if she had left any later, she could have missed them altogether. Somehow, fate decided she was to play a part in the mission that would decide the world's future. And that's okay. Actually, that's more than perfect for the woman; life had no purpose or plans for her anyways, so why not hop aboard the train headed through adventure to reach an unknown destination?

A gleam of yellow catches her eye, and her smile fades almost instantly. The young Autobot scout has allowed curiosity to get the best of him and stick his _helm_ right in _plain sight_ of the window so he can _observe_ Sam's _parents!_

"Bumblebee! What in the pits are you doing?!" Toby whisper-shouts at him, making him jump and stumble backwards, away from the glass pane. He looks at her in mild panic and bows his head in slight shame upon seeing her worried and angry expression. "You can't do that 'Bee! Not while they don't know about you!"

He whirs an apology, looking at his pedes like a child being caught stealing from the cookie jar. The woman sighs in exasperation, holding her head in her hands before looking at him expectantly.

"Don't do it again, 'Bee, I don't want to know what would happen if you get caught."

He whirs again, and nods bashfully, earning a small smile from Toby. Before anything else unexpected can happen, Optimus kneels beside Mikaela, placing his servo on the ground for her to hop on. The girl just looks at him in confusion.

"He's offering you a lift, kid," Toby explains from her perch on Ratchet's shoulder as he walks over to the house, "you'll need it to get in unnoticed."

"And I just-what-step on?" Mikaela glances at the woman warily, though fails to see the Prime's patience deteriorating.

"Whatever you're most comfortable with, but it's easier to sit," the mechanic chuckles, eyeing Optimus with amusement. "I suggest you hurry, everything's at stake here."

Ratchet holds his servo up to Toby, silently requesting that she get on. She complies with no extra effort required from the medic, holding onto his digits for balance as he places her on Sam's window ledge.

She nods a thanks to the Autobot and eases into the room. Her nose scrunches up in disgust when she turns to find a poster plastered with cutouts of women in _very_ revealing swimwear, and gags upon seeing the rest of the teenager's room.

Stuff clutters every surface, and posters cover every inch of wall. A foosball table sits in the middle of the room, and a shelving unit blocks direct access from the door to the bed. A filthy goldfish bowl sits on top a relatively clean desk, about five oversized goldfish swimming within the depressingly sized living quarters

 _'Of all the people who could of had the glasses, why does it have to be him? Who needs this much stuff anyway?_ ' Toby scowls, hopping down from the window ledge.

"Wha-what is this?" Sam jumps in front of her, jittery and panicking.

"I'm here to help look, Sammy," she brushes past him and begins to scan the shelves for the antique glasses.

"They really want those glasses," Toby vaguely hears Mikaela talking to Sam, ignoring them as she looks.

"Please hurry," the woman smiles at the sound of the Prime's voice, reminding her how brilliant life just got.

"Yeah, no, no. It's definitely gone," those words alone make Toby freeze.

"What do you mean?"

"My glasses were in the bag. They were in the backpack and now the backpack isn't here."

"Well, you better find that backpack, Sam Witwicky, because the whole world depends on it," the mechanic snaps coldly at the teenager, internally panicking.

"Yeah, well, I think-I think we should just check-just check this whole," he stammers, unable to meet the glare of the woman.

"Check this section?"

"Yeah, just give it a clean sweep," he gestures to the area the girls stand in while he continues his search of his side of the room.

Toby sighs stressfully as Mikaela pulls a box from its place on the shelf. The mechanic jumps at a clatter made by Sam as he practically leaps back over to keep Mikaela from opening the box.

"Yeah, no, no, no. Not there, that's my-that's my private," he splutters, somehow stuffing the box under his mattress.

"Next time be more specific, Sammy, this is your room, not ours. We don't know where to or where not to look," Toby calls to him as she stands on a chair to check the top shelves.

"She's got a point," Mikaela agrees.

A familiar sound fills the air, causing the teenagers to stop what they're doing and look out the windows, leaving Toby to search by herself.

"No. No, no. No, no, no," Sam cries out in frustration. "This isn't hiding. This isn't hiding. This is my backyard, not a truck stop."

"What have they done now?" The woman doesn't even bother looking over, too focused on her search.

"They-they're cars! In-in-in my backyard!"

"Boys," Toby addresses the Autobots outside, but doesn't move, "cars don't just appear in someone's yard. You're better off as your bipedal selves."

The teens retreat back to the room, leaving no item unturned in their quest to find the glasses. The woman stands from her crouched position, glancing quickly at the figure by the window.

"Sam, he's back."

Sam barrels across the room, barely keeping himself from falling out the window as he leans towards the Autobot leader. He looks down as Optimus steps back and groans loudly.

"Oh, no, no, no. This is my mother's flower—" he whimpers.

"Oops," Optimus' response has Toby chuckling.

"Okay, listen. You got to listen to me. If my parents come out here and see you, they're gonna freak out. My mother's got a temper, okay?"

"Sam, that's not important right now," the woman says over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on the Prime.

Optimus sighs heavily. "We must have the glasses."

"We've looked everywhere, Optimus," Toby faces the pair, expression doubtful, "they're not here."

He sighs again, and in a very human-like action, he rubs his faceplates as Sam rambles. "Keep searching."

"Will do."

As Sam continues his rambling, Toby comes up behind him, patience running thin. She grabs his shirt to make sure he doesn't lose his balance and whacks him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"To shut you up. Optimus," she faces the Cybertronian again, "give us five, maybe ten minutes of silence, and we can do this."

"Autobots, fall back." Optimus demands, and they all start walking in separate directions.

"Thanks."

"Move!" Ratchet shoves Ironhide's shoulder as they back off, receiving a push back from the weapons specialist.

"Get away!"

"What's the matter with you? Can't you be quiet? She wants us to be quiet," Optimus addresses the arguing duo, walking in the opposite direction with Bumblebee.

Toby sees the powerline before Ratchet does and mentally facepalms as he walks into it. Sparks fly around the medic's head as his metal body takes in the sudden surge of electricity and the woman can't help but burst out laughing upon watching him tear through the wires with his torso spinning rapidly while his lights and siren go off as he decimates a greenhouse in a neighbouring garden. The ground shakes when he lands on the grass and panicked shouts can be heard from Sam's house as someone hides.

"Wow, that was tingley!" Ratchet sits up quickly only to fall back to the ground with a loud groan, "You got to try that!"

"Yeah, that looks fun," Ironhide states sarcastically, waving a dismissive servo.

There's a shower of sparks and a loud bang, darkness following quickly as the neighbourhood's power goes out. Someone sighs in exasperation before a thunk and loud curse follow it, the owner holding a hand to their head.

Suddenly, light. That's all Toby can comprehend in the moment. There was complete, and utter darkness, and now there is blinding, white light burning her eyes. Someone's calling Sam's name from the other side of the door, but that doesn't matter. Not as she's being blinded.

"What the frag is that?!"

"Ratchet, point the light," Optimus instructs the medic, probably in an attempt to help the humans look.

"No! Don't point the fragging light!" The woman cries, shielding her eyes with a hand.

"Listen, we got a major issue here," Sam helps Toby to her feet before addressing the Autobots outside. "What's with the light? You gotta stop the light."

"Yes! Please!"

"Sam, are you in there?" A voice asks from behind the door.

_'Scrap!'_

"How come the door's locked? You know the rules. No doors locked in my house!" The woman jumps towards the window, panicking for the first time.

"Put that light out!" Toby waves her hands desperately, only to find herself ignored by the high medic. She narrows her eyes at the Autobot and growls a silent curse before snapping at him. "Put that light out or I swear, _Doc Bot_ , I will reduce you to a pile of scrap!"

He looks at her with wide optics, his floodlight going out in seconds. Toby sighs in relief. But that relief is short lived.

"One more chance. Five."

"Oh dear."

"Oh scrap!" A pattering of feet announces to the mechanic that Mikaela's in hiding and that Sam's running over to her place by the window.

"What are you doing?" Sam demands an answer from the woman as she hoists herself onto his window ledge and searches for a handhold on the gutter.

"I can't be found by your parents! What will they think if they find an eighteen year old woman in your room?!" Finding an appropriate grip, Toby swings out of the window and twists her body to change her grip.

Sam practically screams as the woman slips, hanging by one hand before catching herself. She struggles for a moment, swinging her legs desperately before going limp.

"Some aid would be greatly appreciated 'round about now," Toby grunts in exertion, wiggling helplessly in the air.

A yelp catches in her throat as metal fingers grab the back of her tank top, lifting her from the gutter edge.

"Careful, Toby." The deep voice of Optimus calms her panic and she lets out a breathless chuckle at the bizarreness of the moment. The Prime studies the woman with concern, his optics searching to see if she is alright. Satisfied with his findings, Optimus places her on his shoulder to keep her out of sight of the Witwicky parents.

"—Two. Stand back," it goes silent for a moment, and Toby holds her breath.

"What's up? What's with the bat?" Sam's voice is smooth for once, making the woman relax slightly.

"Who were you talking to?" And she's tense again.

There's a pause. "I'm talking to you."

"Why are you so sweaty and filthy?"

"I'm a child. You know, a teenager."

"We heard voices and noises and we thought maybe you were—"

"It doesn't matter what we thought. What was that light?" Footsteps follow the sentence, making Toby freeze.

"No, what light? What? There's no light, Dad! There's no light! You got two lights in your hand! That's what it is." Sam panics, and this time, it's a very reasonable expression.

"There was a light under your door."

"Look, you can't-you can't just bounce into my room like that. You gotta knock. You gotta communicate," Sam demands.

"We knocked for five minutes," Toby scoffs quietly. _'Five minutes? Sure thing, pal.'_

"We knocked."

"You didn't knock. You were screaming at me, okay? This is repression, what you're doing here. You're ruining my youth, okay?" Toby tilts her head, where'd all the big words come from?

"Oh, for Pete's sake! You are so defensive! Were you masturbating?"

There's a shocked silence in the house, and Toby cringes, glad that she's not in the room, but still tries to shrink into nothing. She gags into her hand, trying desperately to block out the rest of the conversation.

"Judy."

"Was I? No, Mom. No, I don't masturbate!"

"That's not something for you to bring up. That's a father-and-son thing, okay?"

Toby makes a retching sound, causing several optics to look at her in concern. She gives them a thumbs up before putting her head in her hands, face scrunched in pure disgust.

The conversation becomes nothing more than noise to the woman as she calms down, wiping away mental images that do not need to linger. "There goes whatever innocence I had left."

There's a shuffling, and Optimus leans over to peek into the bathroom window.

"Yeah, well, we saw a light," a man, presumably Sam's dad, walks into the room, looking behind him at his son.

"Oh, parents," the Prime steps back quickly, shaking the ground.

"Earthquake! It's another one! Another earthquake! Get in the doorway!" Sam's dad climbs in the bathtub with amazing speed.

"Okay!"

"Aftershock! Aftershock! Oh, I hate these."

"Quick, hide!" Optimus rotates a servo to gesture to the Autobots before backing up against the house in an awkward position. Bumblebee crawls onto the patio, beneath the hanging lights and out of sight.

"Hide? What?" Ironhide flattens against the house around the corner.

"Where?" Ratchet spins for a second before Ironhide pulls him over to his position.

"Oh, oh, man! Man. Oh," Jazz almost fails to find somewhere, his quick check on the parents' location losing him time. Just as Sam's dad looks out the window, he dives into the sheltered patio connected to the dining room. No one breathes.

"Oh, no! Look at the yard! The yard is destroyed," Sam's dad looks behind him to talk to his wife. "Judy? Better call the city. We've got a blown transformer!"

"Well, actually, you have several in your yard," Toby mutters to herself, not bothering to hide the smile plastered on her lips.

"Oh, man. Yard's a waste. Trashed. Gone," he turns back into the room, walking away from the window as the power goes back on.

"The parents are very irritating," Ironhide glances at the window with longing, "can I take them out?"

There's an audible 'yeah, yeah, yeah!' from Ratchet, making Toby snort loudly, struggling to contain her laughter as the weapons specialist fires up his cannons in anticipation. Optimus jumps forward from his awkward position in panic, gripping the edge of the roof to steady himself.

"Ironhide, you know we don't harm humans! What is with you?!" He scolds Ironhide, glaring at him before steadying the woman on his shoulder.

She bites her hand, tears running down her face from laughter. A strained squeak escapes her lips upon catching Ironhide's glare and she quickly finds her feet very interesting.

"Well, I'm just saying we could. It's an option," Ironhide mumbles, looking slightly humiliated.

"Optimus!" Toby whispers into the Prime's audio processor—at least she hopes that's what it is—gaining his silent attention, "Put me down; if Sam can't find the glasses in his room, it's possible that they're elsewhere. I can search the ground floor while his parents are occupied."

The Autobot leader nods slightly and allows the eager woman to climb on his servo. He lowers her to the patio, where she slides off and enters the house.

The voices upstairs rise in volume, which in turn, raise Toby's anxiety level to a point where her heart is pounding in her throat and sweat is dripping down her palms. As quietly as possible, she scours the surfaces of the living room and kitchen, with no success.

"Okay, calm down," she mutters to herself, patting her hands dry and waving them in front of her as she thinks, "he said they were in a backpack. Okay, we're looking for a backpack; simple enough."

Spinning on the spot, the woman spots a black bag slouching on the kitchen island and grins cockily when her fingers grasp a pair of old-fashioned spectacles.

 _'Bingo! Now to get them to the Autobots—'_ her thought is cut short by a firm rap on the door and the sound of someone thundering down the stairs.

 _'Oh this is absolute scrap!'_ She curses herself, pulling out her hair while backing away from the yet-to-be-seen people. A pair of eyes appear in the mail slot in the door, scanning the room before disappearing again. Pure panic ensues, banishing all rational thoughts and common sense as Toby practically throws herself behind one of the sofas, praying to all things holy that she would not be found.

The woman holds a breath as she hears a door being opened, shuffling uncomfortably in her place.

"Ronald Wickity?" Toby barely manages to withhold her groan at the sound of the irritatingly familiar voice.

"It's Witwicky," the woman can _hear_ the frown in his voice, "Who are you?"

 _'That bolt head, Simmons, and his lovely little Sector Seven. This is not going to end well for me.'_ Her eyes widen in sudden realisation. ' _Scrap! The Autobots!'_

"We're the government," Toby doesn't need to see what's happening to know that he's flashing his ID. "Sector Seven."

"Never heard of it," Sam's dad explains.

"Never will. Your son's the great-grandson of Captain Archibald Wickity, is he not?"

_'Oh no. Calm down, calm down. The Autobots will be fine; they're highly intelligent beings.'_

"It's Witwicky."

"May I enter the premises, _sir_?" Simmons says the last word so mockingly, that Toby scrunches up her nose.

"Ron, there's guys all over the front yard," Sam's mom complains loudly.

"What the heck is going on here?"

Simmons seems to be about to answer when Toby gives a startled cry as hands suddenly grab her shoulders and hoist her from her hiding place. She struggles greatly in the grasp of her captor but manages to jam the glasses into her flannel pocket before they're spotted. Her lips curl in distaste for the agent before her, who grins widely at the new discovery.

"Who the heck are you? What are you doing in our house?" Mr. Witwicky shouts, expectedly angry and upset.

"This is Toby Williams; a troublemaker and a pain in the rump," the agent gestures grandly to the young woman, walking over to look her in the eyes, "your father won't be very pleased with you, you know. Caught sneaking into houses at midnight?"

"What do you know, Simmons; my father doesn't give a damn. And I'm not a troublemaker, by the way," Toby gives the Witwicky parents an apologetic look, "I wasn't sneaking into your house with ill intent; I swear I haven't taken anything from you."

"Then what were you doing?" The woman fails to answer as Sam and Mikeala come down the stairs, surprised to find her with her hands above her head and prideful Simmons standing guard.

"I came to deliver some homework assignments to Sam," she doesn't falter in her lie, only looking over at the boy for confirmation. "Isn't that right?"

"Uh," he gulps nervously under the burning gaze of the woman. "Yeah, yeah. I was missing a few pages of math work and asked her to drop it off for me."

"See?"

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing in our house at this hour."

"I work late, so I had little option but to come at this time and he told me to just come in," she points behind her, "the reason you found me back there was my own clumsiness; I kinda tripped and got wedged between the sofa."

"I told you that you're a klutz!" Sam sighs exasperatedly, laying on another false to sell the lie.

Toby's glare turns suffocating—if looks could kill, Sam would be six feet under—and she nearly growls her next words, " _Don't_ call me that, Sammy boy."

Simmons studies the two suspiciously before stepping back to gain more control over the situation.

"Your son filed a stolen car report last night. We think it's involved in a national security matter."

"Hold up," Toby deadpans, looking unimpressed with the agent, "you're telling me that a _car_ has something to do with national security. What the hell happened this time, Sammy?"

"They're ripping up my rose bushes! My God, Ron, they're everywhere. There's guys in suits all around the house! Look at this!"

"Who the hell are these guys?" Mikeala asks, not expecting a response.

"Sector Seven," the group turns to face Toby who crosses her arms nonchalantly. "They're a secret part of the government that technically doesn't exist. They deal with all the weird and wacky stuff that could cause havoc. This bolt head here is Agent Simmons," she sighs slightly while giving the agent an annoyed glance, "we don't like each other much."

"You don't, y'know, work for them, do you?" Sam eyes her warily.

"Hell nah, these guys suck! I just happened to be a very nosy child," She flashes the boy a mischievous grin. "I'm afraid I can't say anything more because one: I don't know much else, and two: they'll hunt me down like a pack of wild dogs."

"Get me a sample and some isotope readings!" Simmons orders, eyeing the woman carefully.

"They're pulling out of the ground! Good Lord! They've got to get their hands off my bush!" Mrs. Witwicky rushes towards an agent with a bat in her hands, causing Toby to snort loudly in amusement.

"Drop the bat, ma'am," the agent says without a flicker of emotion, grabbing the bat, "I'm carrying a loaded weapon."

"Well that escalated quickly," the mechanic huffs to herself.

"Son," Simmons addresses Sam, "your name Sam?"

"Yeah," the boy looks at the agent questionably.

"Well, I need you to come with us."

"Woah, way out of line," Ron stands in front of Sam protectively, oblivious to the woman moving to do the same.

"Sir, I'm asking politely. Back off," the agent mocks offense.

"You're not taking my son."

"Really? You're gonna try to get rough with us?" Simmons remarks, ignoring the tightening grip Toby has on her crossed arms.

"No, but I'm gonna call the cops because there's something fishy going on around here."

"There's something fishy going on about you, your son, your son's girlfriends, your little Taco Bell dog, and this whole operation you got going on here," the agent accuses the group, once again ignoring Toby's vocal growl.

"What operation?"

"That's what we're gonna find out."

Another agent rushes over to Simmons, holding a bizarre device in his hands. The two exchange hushed words before Mr Bolt-Head looks at Sam in surprise.

"Son?"

"Yeah?"

"Step forward, please."

"Just stand?" Sam asks for confirmation, but the agent doesn't respond, he just watches the machine in his hands as it begins to beep rapidly.

The tense atmosphere shatters as Toby erupts in a series of violent sneezes. Simmons raises a brow at her explosion of sound and shifts slightly on his feet.

"Bless you," Ron says, a bit startled.

"T'anks," the woman sniffles, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. A steady beeping halts any action Toby has in mind as it hastily increases in volume and frequency. The sound becomes an ear splitting hum, bringing everyone to their knees with their hands pressed tightly to their skulls.

The handheld machine in Simmons' grasp suddenly bangs and smoke pours from a cracked vent. With the whirring gone, the group warily picks themselves up from the ground to investigate the cause of their torture.

"Would you look at that," Simmons sneers, pointing at Toby, "we've got fourteen rads for the boy, and completely off the charts for the girl! Bingo! Grab 'em and bag 'em!"

Hands grab the bewildered woman's arms, forcing her wrists into a pair of handcuffs, "W-What?" Shock fails to allow her to struggle, "Are you insane?"

The agent doesn't respond, only watching as Sam and his parents are separated into two different SUVs and the girls are thrown in with the boy.

"Why you half-witted, mangy brained, piece of s—" the young woman's insults silence as the door shuts behind her.

"Sam! Don't say anything, Sam! Not a word until we get a lawyer!" Ron hollers to his son as he's pushed into one of the vehicles.   
  
  


★☆★☆★☆★☆★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-reading this for posting made me realize how awful my writing was. I apologise, but please stick around. I assure you it gets much better. This is to be a six book series so I promise the writing will improve.  
> Have a good day!


	4. | | Sector Seven | |

_"No matter how hard it tries, darkness can never snuff out the stars, only hide them."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★  
  
  
  


"So," Simmons begins, holding up a plastic baggie containing Sam's phone. He pulls it from the bag and faces the students, "LadiesMan217. That is your eBay username, right?"

Toby rolls her eyes, groaning loudly at the horrible account name.

"Yeah, but, you know, it was a typo and I ran with it," Sam explains, earning a louder groan from the young woman between him and Mikaela.

"It's so clearly _not_ a typo, Sammy," she gives him an expression of annoyance.

"What do you make of this?"

Toby barely manages to restrain herself from throttling the boy beside her as her fingernails dig into her palms at the sight before her. A video plays on the small screen of the phone, displaying a very pixelated version of Bumblebee in a scrapyard, lighting up the clouds with what appears to be a beacon. Sam's squeaky, puberty-affected voice describes his car 'transforming'.

"Is that you?"

"Yeah," Mikaela speaks before Toby can say anything inhumane, "that sounds like LadiesMan."

"Last night at the station, you told the officer that your car transformed. Enlighten me."

"Well, here's what I said, okay? 'Cause this is a _total_ misunderstanding that my car had been stolen," Sam desperately tries to dig out of the hole he's in.

"Really?"

"From me, from my home, but it's fine now because it's back! It came back!" Toby struggles to resist the temptation to hit the boy upside the head.

"Well, not by itself," Mikaela corrects him.

"Well, no," he agrees.

"Because cars don't do that; that would be crazy."

"Don't look at me, Simmons," Toby raises her hands in a display of innocence upon seeing the agent's glare set on her. "I have nothing to do with this."

There's a brief pause before Simmons decides to speak. "So what do you kids know about aliens?"

Dead silence fills the car, no one daring to say a word.

"Oh, you mean, like a Martian? Like what, E.T.?" Sam laughs nervously. "No."

"It's an urban legend," Mikaela adds on.

"They fly around in UFOs though. Like in 'Independence Day,' remember?"

"Will Smith, right?" Toby cocks her head as she strains her memory, "That was a good movie. But I know nothing of them."

"Is that so? Then how come you were measured for a number that only an alien could have?" The agent jabs an accusing finger in her direction

"Simmons," the woman laughs in confusion, "I'm as human as they come; I'm sassy, sarcastic, and take no scrap from anyone, despite preferring the whirring of engines to conversations with others."

"Enough!" Simmons snaps at the mechanic. He pulls out his badge and displays it cockily to the trio, "See this? This is an I-can-do-whatever-I-want-and-get-away-with-it badge."

"Oh, here we go..." Toby rolls her head back with a groan.

"I'm gonna lock you up forever."

"Oh, God. You know what?" Mikaela rolls her eyes in annoyance, "Don't listen to him. He's just pissy 'cause he's got to get back to guarding the mall."

An amused chuckle fills the SUV, deep and throaty from the admiration contained within. A low whistle follows soon after, a grin accompanying it.

"She's got you there, bolt head."

"You, in the training bra," Toby scowls with disgust upon hearing Simmons' words, "do not test me. Especially with your daddy's parole coming up."

"What the hell, man?" Toby growls at the agent. "That's low, even for you!"

"What? Parole?" Sam looks between the agent and his crush, both worried and confused.

"It's nothing," Mikaela's voice cracks as she attempts to deny the man's revelation.

"Oh, grand theft auto, that ain't nothing?"

"You know those cars my dad used to teach me to fix?" Sam nods slowly. "Well, they... they weren't always his."

"You stole cars?" Toby questions, though more interested by the fact that the preppy girl beside her can fix cars rather than the thievery involved.

"Well, we couldn't always afford a babysitter, so sometimes he had to take me along."

Toby goes quiet, thinking the situation over in her head. Consciously deciding that actions are better than words, she places her hands on the girl's knee in silent acceptance. The look she gives Mikaela is pitying but kind, though it turns violently threatening towards Simmons as he grins triumphantly.

"She's got her own juvie record to prove it! She's a criminal! Criminals are hot."

If it were not for the awkward position Toby sat in, she would've broken his nose with a devastating kick to his facial features. However, unable to do this, she sinks back into the car seat with a frighteningly foul glare.

A muted beeping catches the woman's attention and she grins wickedly as it gets louder. "Buckle up, folks."

Something massive slams into the windshield, effectively spinning the car around as everyone is thrown from their seats. Much to her displeasure, Toby lands between the front seats, knocking her into Simmons as he tries to grab hold of something.

"It's big! It's big!" The driver cries in terror, attempting to see the cause of their crash as a blinding light floods the shattered windscreen.

"Shut up!" Toby pushes herself back into her previous seat, fingers grazing a mild scratch oozing blood from her wrist.

A pair of servos crash through the windows and grip the roof of the vehicle with bitter remorse. The young woman cackles with glee while the others shout in terror as the servos begin to lift up. The metal of the roof creaks and groans in protest to the sudden and unwanted weight of the car. Only when her head cracks against the roof of the car does Toby truly realise the situation.

"Lean forward! Shift your weight to the front!" The metal groans once again before crumpling like paper in Optimus' servos as the car falls free. Toby screams in shock at the unexpected weightlessness and clutches the seat below her in hopes of staying upright. The car slams into the road, causing the group to holler in surprise. Given a moment to recover, they look up to see their reason of crashing. The young woman grins wildly at the massive figure, chuckling darkly at Simmons' unfortunate luck as the floodlight goes out.

"You a-holes are in trouble now," Sam leans forward to speak directly to the agents in front, a smirk playing on his lips. "Gentlemen, I want to introduce you to my friend, Optimus Prime."

The Autobot leader scans the agents with a sour expression. "Taking the children was a bad move," he growls, making Toby shudder as she imagines having his anger directed at her. Multiple agents run out from their stopped vehicles, pointing their guns at the Prime.

' _What the hell is a minuscule bullet gonna do to a giant robotic organism that could theoretically take a mine?_ _'_

"Autobots, relieve them of their weapons."

Toby watches in amused fascination as the Autobots swing out from beneath a nearby bridge, shaking the ground as they land. Ironhide is the first to greet the mass of agents, and his cannons fire up in anticipation, their bits spinning eagerly at the thought of bloodshed.

"Freeze!" He shoves the barrel of his guns closer to the men and forces them back a bit.

Jazz reaches his servo out and twitches his digits slightly. "Give me those!" The guns fly out of the hands of the agents and land in the Autobot's outstretched servo.

Hands shoot up in a display of surrender, and Simmons tries to calm the situation, much to Toby's amusement.

Optimus brings himself to his knees, leaning forward to inspect the Sector Seven agents, his gaze lingering on Simmons.

"Hi there," the man's voice raises a pitch, easing a scoff from the woman behind him.

"You don't seem afraid. Are you not surprised to see us?"

"Look, there are Sector Seven protocols, okay?" He stands slowly, hands high above his head, "I'm not authorised to communicate with you except to tell you that, I can't communicate with you."

"What he means is that he's not surprised to see you," Toby informs Optimus, twiddling around with something in her fingers. "They've encountered aliens before. Though, unfortunately, I don't know who; could be Autobots, could be Decepticons—I have no clue."

Simmons shot the woman a glare, attempting to shut her up before she can say much else. She shrugs, a pleased smile stretching her lips, and grabs the seat in front of her to stand—her handcuffs falling off her wrists.

"How do you know this?" Mikaela tilts her head curiously.

"As I said; I was a nosy child," she grins and hurls herself out of the car wreck onto the glass strewn concrete. "Mom encouraged it. Dad? Dad wanted me out of the way."

"Get out of the car," Optimus demands calmly, though loses his temper as the agent takes his precious time.

"Me? You want me to—"

"Now!" Toby jumps several feet in the air at the Autobot's dramatic change in tone, landing her on Ratchet's pede with a squeak.

"Sorry, Ratchet," the woman slides off and smiles apologetically up at him before joining up with the children.

"You weren't supposed to hear all that," the girl picks Sam's handcuffs hastily, looking desperate and sorry for herself. "Sam, I have a record because I wouldn't turn my dad in. When have you ever sacrificed anything in your _perfect_ little life?"

"Kid," Toby pats Mikaela's shoulder, shooting a death glare at the boy, "if he doesn't accept your past or even try to understand it, I'll be here for you."

"How did you get your handcuffs off?"

"Ah, now you see, I work with a lot of small wires and parts, which is why I was handcuffed with my hands in front; so they could see what I was doing," the mechanic twitches her fingers cheekily.

"You've caused these guys a lot of trouble, haven't you?" Mikaela asks with a smirk.

"You have no idea," Toby grins wickedly, "ready to cause some more?"

"What is Sector Seven?" Sam demands, storming over to a muttering Simmons. "Answer me!"

"I'm the one who'll be asking the questions, not you, young man!" The agent roars in fury.

"How'd you know about the aliens?" The girl nods to the Autobots around them.

"Where did you take my parents?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it," Simmons states.

"Answer their questions, bolt head!" The young woman growls and watches with great amusement as Sam reaches into the agent's suit pocket, looking for an item she very much wants to destroy.

"Hey, you touch me, that's a federal offence."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam smirks as he pulls out the badge. "The do-whatever-you-want-and-get-away-with-it-badge, huh?"

"Ooh! Ooh! I've got dibs on that!" Toby jumps up, scaring Sam out of his Witwicky wits.

"What, on this?" The boy looks puzzled as he holds up the badge.

"Yup, 'had dibs on it for several years now," she snatches it from his stiff fingers and examines it with mock interest before throwing it harshly on the ground. A satisfying crunch sounds from beneath her shoe, causing the woman to grin triumphantly.

"Great, brave now all of a sudden, with your big alien friends over there."

Toby laughs hysterically at Simmons' 'observation', earning her some concerned looks from Autobots and humans alike. When she finally calms down enough for words, she saunters closer to the agent with a wild grin, causing him to back away slightly.

"Listen here, bolt head," she leans forward, jabbing a finger to Simmons' chest and invading his personal space. "I would take you on with or without my good friends here. Besides," she pats her shorts pocket, "why use an alien gun when you can use your own?"

The agent gulps nervously, only regaining his courage when the woman turns away. "You're just like your mother; she was always getting into things she shouldn't have, causing trouble wherever she went. But she was a worm, a para—"

A gun barrel presses against the temple of the man, the unusual source of power whirring angrily at his insults. Toby's bright blue eyes appear to turn black, the shadows of her layered hair deepening the lines of her face. Her lips draw back in a furious snarl and her body tremors with immense withstraint.

"I don't want a man's blood on my hands, so don't give me a reason to spill it," the sound that leaves her lips is so inhuman, that even the Autobots step back.

"N-n-now," Simmons begins, hands shaking in fear, "w-we wou-ldn't w-w-ant to-to do an-anything rash, would w-we?"

"Shall we find that out?" The whirring gains volume and Ironhide finds himself trying to ease the woman away from her target.

"Easy, there, Toby. Shoot and you're worse than him," he kneels to be closer to her level, voice soft.

"Am I?" She tilts her head to regard the weapons specialist, but keeps her eyes locked on the quivering agent. "My mother was a happy woman, 'Hide. She worked from home to care for me, while my father was away for months at a time, but we were happy. Then one day, this _fragger_ of a glitch decided to stick his big nose in where it shouldn't be and tear it all apart. I was nine years old when he started confiscating all of my mother's private work; all her creations, all her blueprints, and all her written quantum theories. He took my father's attention from our family and made him stay away longer. Imagine if all that happened to you within a year. You'd get stressed. You'd get anxious. You'd get sick."

Silence follows her words, only broken by a quiet sniffle from the woman.

"Mom got sick, very sick. She stopped working, she stopped laughing, she stopped singing. She never stopped smiling," Toby chokes a laugh, hardened demeanour gone, replaced with red eyes and a shiny nose, tears falling down her cheeks, "and she made sure I was comfortable even if it pained her to breathe. I was eleven, only three days after my birthday, when it happened. _He_ is the reason that I watched the light fade from my mom's eyes!" Anger burns in her eyes as her body stiffens, pressing the gun harder to Simmons' head, causing an immediate reaction among the humans. Ratchet moves into a position that he can pick up Toby if he must, but does not suspect that he will need to. The gun falls to the concrete with a clatter as the woman's hand falls to her side, tears streaming down her face. "But I won't do what you did to me."

Ratchet offers his servo to allow her to escape the infuriating man, but she ignores him, her features twisting with rage and her knuckles popping as her fingers curl into fists. The woman spins on a dime and draws back her arm, muscles straining with contained strength. Her fist collides with the agent's nose, causing a satisfying crunch. Before the man can stumble, her free hand grasps his jacket and hauls him closer to her.

"That was for stealing my blueprints," she punches him again and releases her grip, "and that was for insulting my mom."

"Toby," Ratchet warns, earning a surrendering sigh from the woman as she backs away from the situation and hops on his open servo.

Simmons holds his nose gingerly as blood runs down his face. "You little—"

"It would not be wise to antagonise her further," the medic informs the agent, sensing Toby's blood pressure spike as he places her on his shoulder.

"That is true," the woman crosses her arms, looking unimpressed.

"She's a wild animal!"

"That is also true," she snarls. "If you say another word to me, the only thing you'll be wanting for Christmas is your two front teeth."

"Remind me never t' piss ya off," Jazz shuffles uncomfortably at the feral grin he receives.

"Don't worry, you'll be duly informed beforehand."

"That's a lil' reassurin'," the lieutenant shifts on his pedes, feeling unsettled.

"Where is Sector Seven?" Sam questions the now injured Seymour Simmons.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He growls, still holding his nose.

Toby opens her mouth to speak but shuts it upon watching something hit Simmons on the head. He rubs the spot it hit curiously before being drenched by some kind of liquid. The woman snorts with laughter as she realises that 'Bee is the cause for the agent's sudden misfortune as the 'bot 'pees' on him. Though she suspects that the liquid is more likely to be a lubricant of sorts.

"Bumblebee, stop lubricating the man," Toby grins widely as she hears the mild amusement in Optimus' voice.

She watches from her perch while Sam and Mikaela handcuff the agents together in a long line.

"Alright, tough guy, take it off," the girl gestures to Simmons with a hand on her hip.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your clothes, all of it, off," Mikaela narrows her gaze at the agent.

"For what?"

"For threatening my dad."

Toby would have laughed, she really would've, but her attention is on the agent beside Simmons. For whatever reason, one of his hands rests inside his jacket, almost like he's hiding something. However, she tears her gaze from the suspicious man to watch Simmons unbutton his dress shirt.

Her eyes glint mischievously upon seeing the Superman-style 'S7' logo printed on his undershirt. A mocking wolf whistle pierces the night air as the moonlight reveals Simmons' Hawaiian print underwear.

Several eyes shift to look at Toby as she chuckles at the agent's humiliating position. She shrugs silently and pulls out her phone to remember the moment, angling the flip phone camera to only capture Simmons in all his glory.

"Ratchet," Toby taps the medic's shoulder to gain his attention, "if you could put me down, I would greatly appreciate it."

Ratchet checks her blood pressure quickly and nods when he deems her calm.

"Thanks."

She slides onto his servo and waits patiently while he lowers her to the ground. Toby jogs over to the to kids, eyes locked behind them. Just as they turn away from the handcuffed agents, she pounces forward and snatches something from an agent's hand.

"Sorry y'all had t' hear that," she begins, holding the phone to her ear, "but I'm afraid the show's over for t'night."

She picks up her gun from the ground and spins to face the curious faceplates of the Autobots. The phone clicks, ending the call, and she rotates her finger to gesture to everyone.

"Alright, folks, we've gotta wrap this up! The fez'll be on our tailpipes in a sec'!"

"She's right! We have incoming!" Ironhide informs Optimus before crouching low to the ground with a cannon on the cement. The blast flares blue, a shockwave knocking the incoming cars off course as their wheels slide on the tarmac.

"Toby!" Ratchet calls the woman. "Up you get."

Toby holds his digits tightly, trying to keep her balance as he transforms into his alternate mode. She finds herself in the passenger seat of the medic's first responder vehicle form, clutching the seat nauseously. The seatbelt clicks into place and the woman shifts her grip to hold it instead.

Ratchet drifts into an empty alley, struggling to evade the helicopters now in pursuit of his neon behind. The woman shuts her eyes as physical laws seek to claim her from her seat.

"Left!"

"What?"

"You heard me! Sharp left!" She curses loudly as Ratchet misses the turning, "Doc! You've got to listen to me! I know these streets like the back of my hand!"

The medic growls at the nickname, and turns right into another alley. A dead end. Toby curses again and fights the seatbelt off her, causing Ratchet to shake his alt to keep her from standing.

"If you're not gonna listen, let me drive!"

"What on Cybertron do you mean?"

"I'll explain later, just give me the wheel!" She hits the medic's steering wheel harshly and throws herself into the driver's seat, "Forgive me for this."

Ratchet doesn't get a chance to respond as the woman twists his wheel and forces him to take a sharp right onto a street running below the highway. Sirens call out from behind them, urging Toby to forcefully direct the medic between civilian vehicles. Seeing a familiar exit, she spins Ratchet around a city bus and takes him down an abandoned street, the houses and apartments empty of residents.

Garbage flies into the air as they zoom down the dusty avenue, the black cars not ceasing in their attempts to capture the two runaways.

Toby changes Ratchet's gear and spins him between two houses and through the overgrown backyards. Repeating the process several times, the pair are rewarded with the sound of fading engines, but the relief is short lived when the medic realises where they are.

"Are you insane?"

"Quite possibly," Toby grits her teeth as her protector readies an argument. "Look, Doc, I know what I'm doing."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" A growl escapes her throat. "There's a drainage pipe in the canal where we can hide until they're gone."

"You're speaking as though you've done this before."

"Of course I have!" She snaps, silencing the medic. "Anything to do with mechanics and cars; I've done. And that includes street racing."

Something collides with Ratchet's passenger door, throwing the woman into his driver side door as glass rains down on her. Her head cracks against the metal, knocking her unconscious with blood running down her forehead. The medic growls through his radio and rams the attacking vehicle, sending it spinning off the road in an act of revenge.

"Toby," he calls the woman, unable to scan her in his current situation. The only reply he receives is a small groan, though he vents in relief and tightens his seatbelt around her.

"Now I understand why distracted driving is frowned upon," her voice is weak, but still holds her humour. "You're gonna have to weave through the buildings until you lose them, I can't act as your GPS."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by a truck. My vision won't clear and it feels like someone's drilling a jackhammer into my skull," Toby holds a shaking hand to her head, wishing the pounding sensation will go away.

"You may have a concussion; I will scan you when we stop."

The woman hums softly, wincing as the medic goes over a pothole and the hammering in her head flares angrily.  
  
  


★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	5. | | Never Again | |

_"The ends of the Earth are just the beginning of the universe."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★  
  
  


Screeching tires come to an abrupt halt on the asphalt road, only furthering Toby's dazed state. Though whirs of pain and torment rip through her soul as she becomes aware of the screaming Autobot below the bridge.

"Bumblebee," she watches numbly as her species bind the innocent 'bot with cables and freeze his bits with nitrogen. The woman remains unaware as she removes herself from Ratchet's cabin and rests her folded arms on top the stone railing, only observing from afar with no idea of what to do.

A small figure tackles a man with a nitrogen gun, taking the device from his grasp and using it against him until another agent brings the person to the ground. Sam's fearful voice pierces the night, startling Toby from her numbness and forces her to watch the boy and girl being dragged away from a still crying Bumblebee.

"Why," more of a statement, not a question. "Why are humans so cruel? What compels them to such torturous methods? And why must I be one of them?" The woman's voice is full of disgust and hatred, her lips drawn back in pure displeasure.

"Perhaps it is so you can prove such a fact to be wrong," the medic speaks, "perhaps it is so you can change their cruelty. You cannot presume what fate has laid out for you."

"Perhaps it's not fate then," Toby snarls in disagreement, "perhaps it's merely coincidence."

"Coincidence only takes you so far, young one. Coincidence did not get you to where you are now, but fate did. Fate guided you to interrupt our meeting and twist your future into our own lives. Do not take that lightly."

The woman chuckles lowly, looking away from the heart wrenching sight below, "For an old piston, you sure are full of wisdom."

Ratchet splutters indignantly at her words, causing his vehicle form to shake. Jazz laughs quietly as he pulls himself onto the bridge, seeing as the MIB cars and helicopters are gone, but his faceplates display his guilt for all to see.

"What are we s'posed t' do now? We just lost Bumblebee an' we don't even have the glasses!" The silver 'bot gestures wildly, downtrodden with all that has happened in the span of the evening.

"What, d'ya mean these glasses?" Toby grins halfheartedly, pulling the ancient spectacles from her flannel pocket.

"When did ya snag those?" Jazz holds out his servo for the woman to step onto.

"Just before the Men In Black showed up at Sam's door. I figured you might need them," she smiles widely as she hops onto the offered servo and settles quietly while the Autobot turns to carry her beneath the bridge to deliver the special package to Optimus.

"Ep, ep, ep! Not until I've scanned you; you took quite a hit to the head," metal clashes as Ratchet transforms into his bi-pedal self, holding an odd device in front of him.

"Alright, alright; calm down, Piston," Toby raises her hands in mock surrender, smiling slightly at the nickname.

"Don't call me that," the medic scowls and scans the woman, frowning further as he reads the results. "You don't have a concussion, but the level of caffeine in your system is quite alarming."

The woman grins, shaking her head slightly. "That's normal for me, I'm quite the caffeine junkie. Actually, I'm pretty sure my blood is pure caffeine at this point."

"That is not healthy."

"Neither is cracking your head on a car door, but here I am," she shrugs dismissively and pats Jazz's servo, "Come on, let's go give Bossbot the glasses."

"Givin' nicknames now, are ya?" Jazz smiles down at her as he swings onto the pavement below the bridge.

"I've been working on them all evening, Jazzy. I'm not gonna let my efforts go to waste."

"Optimus," the silver Autobot clears his chuckle and presents Toby to his leader, "she has the glasses."

"Then we must locate the Allspark, we cannot let Bumblebee's sacrifice be in vain," Optimus states, though the woman can hear the obvious guilt in his voice.

Taking matters into her own hands, she stands, and before Jazz can do anything about it, she leaps across the gap between the two Autobots. Despite his initial surprise, Optimus catches her fragile form and places her on his shoulder, questioning her motives for the sudden action.

"Whatever happened, Optimus, was not your fault," Toby comfortingly pats the Autobot's helm, sympathy evident. "Bumblebee knew what he was getting into and he certainly wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

Optimus observes the woman quietly, thankful for her presence in the moment. She smiles gently, eyes full of compassion and experience as she absentmindedly rubs her fingers on his armour.

"I blamed myself for my mother's death for many years until realising that she wouldn't want me to dwell on the past," her gaze becomes distant and hollow before shaking her head slightly to return to the current situation.

"Is there anything you need, Toby, before we roll out?"

"I have a small bag at my house, it has some important stuff in it that could come in useful," the woman gives her address to the 'bot, running a nervous hand through her hair, an action neither Jazz, nor Optimus, miss.

With rising suspicion, Optimus places Toby on the ground, awaiting her unofficial 'guardian'. Once the medic joins the trio, an optic ridge raised at the two concerned Autobots behind the woman, he transforms into his alt and studies his charge quietly while she climbs inside his cabin. Her posture appears stiff and her fingers tremble lightly as she takes her seat on the passenger side.

"Didn't you have a bag earlier?" Ratchet's question startles the young woman, causing her to jolt harshly before grimacing and holding a hand to her head.

"Yeah, bolt head's goons took it from me when we got arrested. It only had sketchbooks and pencils in it, I can always replace that," she goes silent, staring at her hands while she fidgets.

"There's more to it than that, isn't there?"

"I guess you could say that," Toby looks out the window to watch the others transform, otherwise ignoring her friend's question.

:.Ratchet.: Optimus' voice fills the tense silence, :.We are collecting items of necessity for Toby from her residence, prepare to roll out.:

"Was that a comm?"

"Indeed it was," Ratchet states, slightly surprised by her question, knowing how observant the woman typically is.

Silence settles once more between the two, Toby remaining tense and jittery, much to the medic's confusion, and occasionally chewing on her nails, only stopping when Ratchet grunts scoldingly.

"You mentioned street racing earlier," Toby jumps in her seat, "care to elaborate?"

"I-I didn't actually street race, but I guess I was what you could call a 'scout'. I don't—er-didn't—have a vehicle at the time, but since I knew the streets pretty well, the racers would send me out with their cars to scout out good racing strips. If I found a decent place, I'd get paid a percentage of the winnings."

"Why did you do it?"

Silence.

"Toby?"

"I-I'd rather n-not."

"Toby," The demanding tone in his voice has the woman staring out the window to avoid any sort of 'eye contact'.

"Y-you'll see."

Not quite understanding, Ratchet focuses his attention on the road and the passing houses on either side of the tarmac. Street lights become less frequent, and cruising vehicles cease to exist as the band of Autobots exit the bustling city of Los Angeles. Duplexes turn into separate buildings, only to then decrease into small plots of land accompanied by two bedroom houses. Wheat bows softly in a gentle breeze, and a low hedge grows in size as the group approaches their destination.

A large house comes into view after Ratchet turns down a gravel road, half of it clearly unused, and the branches of a towering willow tree brush the window of one of the upstairs rooms, tapping quietly in the breeze. A steel-roofed shed sits overgrown beneath the window, the door padlocked and rusted. No lights brighten the once pridefully kept building, turning the place into a gloomy afterthought, and signifying the absence of any conscious beings.

As Ratchet's tires come to a halt, Toby inhales shakily, only to hold the breath while she runs her hands through her hair. Releasing her breath, she glares at the dashboard so harshly that the medic almost shakes and unbuckles the seatbelt.

"Do _not_ , under _any_ circumstance, transform. My dad works for Sector Seven, and we do _not_ want a repeat of earlier," Toby sends him one last glare before exiting his alt mode and running over to the shed.

The woman grasps the roof of the shed and swings her leg up in practiced movement, creating little sound as she hoists herself up. Her steps are rehearsed, barely tapping on the steel while carefully she picks her handhold on the window ledge above her head. A small leap has her sliding through the open window and into the room beyond.

"And stay quiet," A small voice demands from inside the house, leaving the Autobots slightly baffled and confused.

☆★☆

"Where is it? Where is it?" Inside the room, Toby rummages through piles of paper, panicked and mildly fearful. Something skids across the floor as the woman accidentally kicks it in her haste to find the lost item. A curse leaves her lips upon noticing the object slide beneath the twin bed.

"You know what? Leave it. Grab everything else first," Toby dismisses the prototype, instead silently collecting items of necessity and stuffing them into a black knapsack. Blueprints, prototypes, even handmade tools find their way into the bag—though she doesn't forget the small stash of food hidden in her closet—anything that can prove to be dangerous in the wrong hands discover themselves removed from the bedroom.

She snatches her soldering iron from atop a shelf, only to find everything on said shelf crashing onto the floor in a loud clatter.

"Scrap."

Silence fills the house, and Toby holds her breath. Nothing moves. Nothing dares make a sound.

"Toby?" The woman releases her breath, eyes wide as she scans her room for a hiding place. Nothing.

A light turns on somewhere in the hallway, followed by heavy, lumbering footsteps. She might as well accept her fate as the person comes closer. Toby reaches under her bed, nerves frayed, but determined not to show it. She pulls out the prototype weapon and stuffs the last item in her bag before zipping it shut.

The door swings open just as she shoulders her bag, revealing her disappointed father.

"And what do you think you're doing?" The broad shouldered man crosses his arms.

"I'm leaving."

Her father scoffs, almost growling. "You will do no such thing."

"Watch me, then," Toby straightens her posture to hide her trembling knees.

"You are _my_ daughter, and you will do as _I_ say!" He demands, chestnut eyes blazing.

"No."

"What did you say?"

"I said, _no_ ," the man opens his mouth to snap back but halts upon seeing the pure fury in his daughter's expression. "You had seven—nearly eight—years to act like you cared."

"I—"

"Were you unaware that you had a daughter?" Cold malice fills her voice, accompanied by pent up hatred. "The day mom died I was left to fend for myself. I was _eleven_ years old."

"I was grieving!" The man defends himself hotly.

"For seven years?!" Her voice snarls. "Arthur Williams, I grieved for one week! I moved on! I forced myself onto other things because you _forgot_ about me!"

"I did _not_ —"

"You _did_. You forgot your _child_ because she reminded you too much of her mother. She suffered and _made_ herself provide for herself. You made her believe that _she_ caused her mother's death. Do you have _any_ idea of what that did to her?"

The man growls, rolling his shoulders and putting his hands on his hips to reassert his dominance in the situation. Toby holds her glare, adjusting her bag and grabbing a white baseball cap.

"It destroyed her. She lost both her mother _and_ her father. So I tell you now, in this moment, that I am leaving. I'm leaving for good because it's clear to me that you don't care," her eyes are dry, no tears to be shed for the man before her.

"You are _not_ leaving _my_ house."

"Then I won't say goodbye—not that you deserve one," the woman steps towards him, eyes glued to the hallway where her freedom lies. He blocks the door, glaring coldly at her, but she doesn't spare him a glance, only halting momentarily to address him. "And it isn't your house, it was mom's."

She shoves her shoulder into the man, brushing past him without a second thought as she walks down the hallway, leaving the chains of her life behind.

Each step relieves more weight from her shoulders; each step brings further happiness. Nothing will be able to stop her progress; nothing can stop her now. She is free. Toby is free.

The rusty screen door is the only obstacle that remains in her way. A simple push is all that's needed.

The hinges creak painfully as the woman presses against the white painted wood, seeing fleeting memories of more joyful times

A strained smile fights its way onto her face, remembering that her mother will be with her through every step of this new life, whether in spirit or in the stars, the woman does not care, so long as she knows how far her daughter has come.

A rumble of an engine changes her strained expression into a true grin of happiness. Her feet move before she even thinks, carrying her across the overgrown lawn in eager leaps towards the source of the sound. Small tears roll down the woman's cheeks, shed only in the joy of freedom and countless possibilities for the future.

The neon yellow Autobot ambulance rolls into view, appearing, somehow, to be worried or, at the very least, concerned. If even possible, her grin broadens further, fuelling her body to run faster. His door opens upon seeing the speed of his charge as she propels herself across the grass towards him.

A very audible 'oof' sounds as Toby barrels into Ratchet's cabin, though unclear as to which of the two it belongs to. Despite being in the driver's seat, she shuffles over to the passenger seat and makes herself comfortable while respecting the medic's personal boundaries.

"Well, that went well," Toby is one hundred percent sure that her friend just scowled.

"I would not say that it did," he disagrees, starting to drive away from the depressing house.

"What you heard was the best possible situation," she pauses. "And everything I said in there is true."

"Your sire does not seem suited for the occupation of 'creator'."

Toby scowls at his steering wheel, momentarily confused by his choice of words. "Do you mean 'father' and 'parent'?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then you are absolutely correct—well, not quite. He was great when mom was around, but when she died I guess he just couldn't cope. Doesn't mean I forgive him, mind you. He may be my father, but he sure ain't my dad."  
  


★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	6. | | New Horizons | |

_"Look to the heavens and you shall find your way."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

"That is _not_ healthy."

"I am well aware of that, Piston, that is why I drink it," Toby rolls her eyes while taking a sip of an energy drink.

"Don't call me that," the medic growls, making the woman laugh with his dislike of the nickname.

:.Why not, _Piston?_.: Toby snorts violently, coughing when her drink goes up her nose as Ironhide's snarky voice comes through the comm.

:.Was that really necessary, _Trigger Fingers?_.: Ratchet's sharp reply has the mechanic spluttering; wheezing into her flannel sleeve.

:.It's necessary as long as the lil' lady calls ya that, _Piston_.: Toby forces herself to take a deep breath, though fails as she erupts into a laughing fit.

:.I think your charge is dying, Piston.: Ironhide states sarcastically.

"I wouldn't be if you guys weren't teasing each other," the woman thumps her chest to clear the liquid still stuck in her windpipe.

:.Technically, this is yer fault, Gears.: A grin finds its way onto her face at the new nickname introduced by the hip hop Autobot.

"Maybe, but I'm enjoying this, and I like the name," she smiles, cradling her drink can in her hands.

:.Gears and Piston, quite the duo.: Ironhide remarks in mock thoughtfulness.

"Not nearly as much as Trigger Fingers and _Jazz Hands_ ," the comm bursts in an explosion of protests from the weapons specialist and first lieutenant while Toby and Ratchet listen with amusement.

:.This is not the purpose of all-access comm channel.: Optimus for the first time, his exasperation causing the young woman to chuckle loudly.

"But it's fun, Bossbot, so whatcha gonna do about it?" The comm goes silent, the channel having been switched off, though Toby knows that the Autobots are laughing to themselves.

_Is this how family is supposed to act?_

☆★☆

"Where are we even going?" An exhausted Toby asks Ratchet.

"An abandoned observatory, where we can hopefully read the coordinates on the glasses," the medic explains in exasperation.

There's a moment of silence while the woman thinks. "I believe I know which observatory you're talking about; my mom used to take me to a place nearby. She brought me there and taught me the names of the constellations and how to identify each one."

"Do you have a favourite?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have a favourite constellation?"

"Oh, yeah! Orion. My mom liked Aquarius though," Ratchet splutters the equivalent of a cough, making Toby raise a brow but otherwise continues staring out the window. "I always said that I'd name a star after her—Magar Hills—a name I came up with when I was little."

Ratchet hums quietly before responding. "Why not remember her in a less extravagant way?"

"What do you have in mind?" The woman questions curiously.

"Your surname is Williams, correct?"

"Yes," Toby answers slowly, unsure of the medic's intentions.

"Why not change it to Hills? It is your mother's maiden name after all."

A grin stretches across Toby's expression as she ponders. "Yeah, I think that'll work."

☆★☆

The morning sun shines brightly upon the team of Autobots as they regroup at an abandoned observatory. A somber atmosphere surrounds the 'bots with only a glimmer of hope radiating from a small human sitting on the shoulder of one of them.

"Please let this work," Optimus says to himself, delicately holding the glasses between two digits.

"It will work," the Prime looks over at the young woman resting on Ratchet's shoulder. She crosses her arms confidently, her gaze withholding no doubt.

"Fire it up, Optimus," Jazz paces on the roof of the observatory, eager to end the wild goose chase.

"Have patience, Jazz," Toby remarks, eyes not leaving the Autobot leader as his optics flash in pure light. The light filters through the glass lenses of the Witwicky captain's spectacles, causing a hologram of the earth to flicker into existence. The mechanic gasps in delight, eyes sparkling in wonder of the spectacle.

"The code," Optimus begins, a trickle of hope filling his voice. "The code on these glasses indicates the Allspark is two-hundred and thirty miles from here."

He lowers the glasses and his optics blink back to their usual glow. The Autobots stand before him, ready for their next command while Toby grins at the leader.

"I sense the Decepticons are getting ready to mobilise," Ratchet speaks up, his statement making his charge's smile falter slightly.

"They must know it's here, as well," the weapons specialist faces his fellow Autobots.

"What about Bumblebee?" Jazz demands an answer, looking down at his comrades in guilt. "We can't just leave him to die and become some human experiment!"

"He'll die in vain if we don't accomplish our mission," Optimus points out calmly. "Bumblebee is a brave soldier. This is what he would want."

"Why are we fighting to save the humans?" Ironhide questions, sparing a fleeting glance at the woman on Ratchet's shoulder. "They're a primitive and violent race."

"Were we so different? They're a young species. They have much to learn. But I've seen goodness in them," the Prime looks pointedly at Toby, compassion and thankfulness in his optics, making her smile pridefully as her cheeks tint pink. "Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. You all know there's only one way to end this war. We must destroy the Cube. If all else fails, I will unite it with the spark in my chest."

"That's suicide!" Both Ratchet and Toby say in unison, the latter in outrage and fear.

The medic scowls momentarily in confusion at the woman before stepping forward to address his friend. "The Cube is raw power. It could destroy you both."

"A necessary sacrifice to bring peace to this planet. We cannot let the humans pay for our mistakes. It's been an honour serving with you all, no matter how short the service," he eyes Toby, the woman bowing her head in her own display of her respect. "Autobots, roll out!"

"We rollin'!" Jazz cries, jumping down from his perch, loyally following his leader as the others do the same. Only one makes any other sort of comment, her screech echoing in her guardian's audio receptor to notify him that she is still there.

☆★☆

Toby's fingers shakily rewire the circuitry of her plasma gun under the guidance of Ironhide.

:.Of course, a proton cannon is far superior to a plasma weapon.:

"I was kind of limited in what I could make with my little knowledge and low budget," the mechanic cheekily responds.

:.Doesn't mean I'm wrong.:

"Please tell me the next step so this doesn't explode in my face," Toby sighs, glaring at the Topkick through the window of Ratchet's alt.

:.And I would rather not experience an explosion in my cabin.: The medic huffs.

The weapons specialist explains in detail how to safely rearm the gun, though Toby's mind wanders elsewhere.

In less than twelve hours, the woman has met an alien species, snuck into someone's house, been arrested, broken a man's nose after nearly shooting him, _driven_ an alien in a car chase, then confronted her father _and_ left her childhood home. Now she sits in the cabin of someone she considers to be one true friend while correcting the errors in her prototype with the aid of a trigger happy alien with guns in his arms.

"Toby, are you alright?" Ratchet's concerned voice brings the woman from her thoughts.

"Yeah, why'd ya ask?"

The medic vents softly, seeming out-of-character gentle. "You've been staring at your hands for several minutes. And don't lie," Toby glances at the dashboard, "I know you're not alright. I've seen that far off look before."

There's a moment of absolute silence as the woman fidgets uncomfortably, folding her hands on her lap.

"I—" Toby clears her voice stiffly, "—I'm analytical, Ratchet. I figure things out just by looking at them. So I know full well that-that this won't end peacefully. We are going to end up fighting and I want you to know that I will fight by your side."

Ratchet vents quietly again, in the gentle way a father would to a daughter. "I do not wish for you to fight, Toby."

"Unfortunately, it's not your choice to make," the woman snaps. "You are trying to save our planet and stop Megatron; I see no better cause for me to fight, even if it's against my own species," Toby frustratedly stuffs her delicately calibrated weapon in her shorts' pocket.

"But you don't want to fight," the comment causes the mechanic to pause, knowing her friend is right.

"No, I don't."

"Then what do you want?"

Toby takes a shaky breath, choking back a sob. "I-I don't want to die."

The seat belt tightens around the woman, the best form of comfort Ratchet can provide. She smiles sadly, moving her hands to hold the seat belt and wipes a tear stained cheek with her flannel sleeve.

"I won't let you die, I promise."

"I wish that was a promise you could keep."

★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	7. | | The Battle Begins | |

_"Stars only fade when the sun rises."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★  
  
  
  
  
  


Toby's head leans heavily on Ratchet's passenger seat, mouth agape and ginger hair covering her eyes. Soft snores leave her lips on occasion, blowing strands of hair with each exhale. Ratchet chuckles to himself at her appearance, glad that she's finally resting her body.

A bellowing horn causes the woman to shoot forwards, eyes wild and hair a mess, kicking the medic's glove box out of reflex.

"I'm awake!" Her scream makes Ratchet cringe, though seeing Optimus make a sharp u-turn to follow a convoy of military vehicles, he tightens Toby's seat belt to keep her from flying into his window. The mechanic screams again, caught off guard by the sudden movement and nearly short circuiting the medic's audio receptor in the process.

A split second passes as Toby struggles to grasp what is happening, staring blankly at the cars in front.

"It's Bumblebee!" She pauses, expression brightening. "Piston, could you open a comm channel with him?"

"Already working on it."

:.—timus!.: Sam's high pitched voice cause Toby to clap her hands over her ears.

"Yes, 'tis us," she sarcastically remarks. "But there is no need to use such a volume."

:.Toby? What are you—?.:

"I was invited. Now, what's happening? Does it have anything to do with Megatron or the Allspark?" The dead silence on the comm channel makes the woman realise that her sarcastic question is actually relevant. "Oh frag, it's both isn't it?"

:.Not by choice!.:

"Ah, what the hell, we only live once anyways," she sighs, though shudders slightly from an unknown feeling. Her eyes widen in panic and terror. "The Allspark, is it safe with you?!"

:.H-how do you—.: The whiny teenager doesn't get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the ever-impressive Mikaela Banes, :.—It's safe! But Megatron's back!.:

"I figured!" Toby growls at the comm, throwing her hands up in frustrated stress. "'Bee, what's the plan?"

:.~All~spark~to the city~safe from evil.: The radio whirs an answer from the Autobot scout.

"So we're hiding the Allspark somewhere in the city?" The woman checks, wanting to know everything that can sway the course of the events about to occur.

:.~Yes, ma'am.:

"And I presume that these military guys are your convoy?"

:.~Aye aye.:

"Contact the lead vehicle if you can, and tell them to prepare for heavy fire. See if they can evacuate people," Toby runs a hand through her hair, feeling overly connected to the whole thing. "There's no way the Decepticons are giving up without a battle. They won't care who gets hurt or who sees them. Got that?"

:.~You can count on me.: His reply ends the comm connection and the woman sighs nervously.

"I've got a _really_ bad feeling about this, Ratchet," Toby whines fearfully, hugging her arms to her body.

The use of his designation catches the medic's attention, notifying him of how _terrified_ the girl is.

"And _don't_ try to tell me that it's gonna be alright, because I know it's unlikely that I will survive this."

"You will survive, I will make sure of it."

"I guess we'll see then," she looks out the window at the approaching city, "the battle is about to begin."

Sirens begin to blare behind them, causing Toby to look back in confusion. She swallows thickly, eyes wide in horror as she observes a minesweeper vehicle ram a civilian car off the road, and flip another, leaving nothing but scrap on the highway. A police cruiser speeds through the wreckage, almost trying to gain on the convoy.

Tires squeal as Optimus slams on his brakes, his unspoken command urging Ratchet and Ironhide to stay close to the scout. The minesweeper breaks apart, it's pieces rearranging themselves to form a twisted looking Cybertronian with devilish red optics—a Decepticon. Fear embraces Toby's very soul, shaking her to the core but fueling her motivation to push onward into the battle.

Metal clashes, this time more gracefully as Optimus transforms, stumbling to gain his balance while avoiding the cars in his path. Tarmac cracks beneath him, his pedes digging into the road to slow his velocity.

The Decepticon skates closer, tearing through a bus to reach its target. Toby's heart wrenches at the thought of the people inside, but shoves them away as her determination to get through this grows. The 'con tackles Optimus, throwing him off one the bridges and to the ground below.

With her lost visual, Toby can only pray that the Autobot leader can handle himself as the convoy enters to city.

Buildings loom ominously overhead, casting long shadows on the convoy below. Streets are full of innocents, civilians who have no idea what is about to happen. People stare in curiosity and confusion at the strange group of vehicles speeding down the road.

They come to a stop somewhere in the middle of the city, several soldiers exiting their cars while Sam and Mikaela get out of 'Bee's alt. It takes a few moments for Toby to leave Ratchet's alt, but when she does, there is no trace of fear, every emotion hidden by a steel mask. Her hand rests on her corrected plasma gun and the other on the brim of her snow white cap.

"Air Force has arrived! Pop smoke!" One of the soldiers calls, clearly in charge of the group of military men.

Green smoke billows in the air, and the sound of jet engines is deafening as a F-22 flies low between the buildings. Suspicion ebbs at the back of Toby's mind, telling her to turn tail and run, but she ignores it, unwilling to flee before the fight has begun.

"Raptor, Raptor, do you copy?" Another soldier speaks into a radio, making the young woman look up. She knows that voice. "We have you visual. Green smoke is the mark. Provide air cover and vector Black Hawks for extraction."

"It's Starscream!" Ironhide transforms, sending all the civilians running and screaming in terror.

"Please tell me you copy," the soldier begs.

"Back up! Take cover! Bumblebee!" Ironhide calls out to the young scout as he transforms.

The two hoist up a nearby Furby truck as the jet circles around, finally getting the humans behind to understand. Orders are delivered, sending the soldiers out of their vehicles and away from the area. A metal servo scoops Toby off the ground and pulls her close to a chassis just as two missiles come into view.

An ear-shattering explosion rips through the street, sending concrete and metal up into the air. The Autobot cradling the young woman falls to the ground in a thundering crash unheard by those nearby, saving her from the worst of the blast and leaving her with only scrapes and bruises.

The world only exists as a whining hum to Toby; colours are blending together and up is down. Nothing's quite right but is better than it could be.

"Ratchet!" A faint voice screams through the settling dust.

The woman remains unmoving, regaining her breath from the unexpected attack.

"Toby," the servo handling her moves to reveal a concerned Ratchet. "Toby, are you alright?"

"Ratchet, I'm fine," she waves off his concern, gesturing for him to put her down. "There's a war going on, let's focus on that."

Almost reluctantly, the medic places her on the ground, standing to his pedes as he does. Toby nods to him, accepting that his duty to protect the city must remain greater than his promise to protect her.

"Don't do anything stupid," Ratchet mutters, not really intending for her to hear him.

"Everything I do is stupid, Piston!" She forces a laugh before giving him a stern glare. "Don't die."

He nods, turning away to defend the civilians and soldiers from incoming Decepticons. Toby breathes deeply, attempting to wash away her fear before looking for Sam, or more specifically, the Allspark.

Chunks of tarmac and building pieces lay scattered in the street, steel wires exposed from their concrete casings. A panicked beg eases through nearby debris, drawing Toby to the familiar voice.

"You got to get up. You're okay," Sam pleads to the person.

The woman's eyes widen upon seeing the situation as she climbs over a flipped car. Both Sam and Mikaela stand by a crippled Bumblebee, his pedes blown off by the blast. The scout whirs and beeps in absolute agony, dragging himself over to a small cube.

Sam collapses on a chunk of tarmac in front of 'Bee as Mikaela runs off to make herself useful. Bumblebee continues to crawl, making the mechanic snap out her small daze.

"'Bee!" The two look over to see Toby jump off the car, landing without so much as a stumble. "Don't do that! Don't move!"

She kneels beside him, assessing his injures the best she can. The scout whirs in protest, only to receive a sharp glare as she checks his energeon lines.

"What are you doing?" Toby sighs, halting her examination to look at the boy.

"Making sure that he won't bleed out."

"How?"

She shakes her head in disbelief. "We're in the middle of a battle, and you want to ask me that _now_?"

"Sorry," he mumbles, looking at Bumblebee in devastation.

"You should be fine, 'Bee," she pats his stabiliser tenderly before getting up to stand by Sam.

Her gaze is captured by a small cube lying amongst the rubble, deep markings and symbols carved into it. It seems almost familiar to her, but the memory is just out of reach. Though she knows it's powerful; the Cube has an aura of raw energy.

A shell explodes nearby, showering the trio with dirt. Another soon follows, this time much closer. Toby pulls Sam to the ground as she peeks over the pile of rubble.

A tank rolls down the street, crushing a car in its path and sending civilians screaming as they run. It fires upon a group of soldiers, their vehicles driving to meet it head on. An engine roars promisingly in a different street, a siren sounding as well to solidify said promise.

"I'm not gonna leave you," Toby looks back down at Sam, finding him watching Bumblebee as he hands him the Cube. Every ounce of cruelty and harsh attitude the woman has towards the boy immediately melts away. To hold that relic of the universe, he must be worthy.

"I take it that's the Allspark?" 'Bee nods, his optics locked with the woman's eyes. He sees the guilt and acceptance. He knows she's willing to fight.

The sound of gunfire catches her attention, drawing her back to watch the tank.

_'Wait a second. Is that Ironhide?'_

A Topkick pickup truck speeds past, his wind blowing back Toby's hair. He swerves to avoid a shell, and transforms halfway to prepare for the next attack. Suddenly, he jumps, transforming completely as two shells pass under him. As he comes down, his servos disappear, replaced by his cannons, and he fires at the ground, propelling him up as he rights himself. His pedes land on the road, but upon seeing another projectile, he catapults himself over it, barely missing the shell before landing in a roll.

"Come on, Decepticon punk," out of nowhere, Jazz hops onto the tank, spinning its barrel before it can fire.

The tank transforms, standing up as Jazz successfully kicks off one of its cannons before it grabs his pede and throws him into a building across the street. Using the time granted to him, Ironhide fires at the tank, twisting in the air to avoid another two shells while continuously shooting at the 'con.

As the weapon specialist lands in a tumble, Jazz slides past, his shield raised to deflect attacks. Ratchet leaps off a nearby car and spins, his saw blade running at a deadly speed as he hacks off the 'con's arm, landing with nothing that resembles exhaustion.

The soldiers fire their guns in an attempt to help, only to have their efforts blown away as the medic shoots the tank in the chassis, offlining it for good.

Something utterly massive lands behind several buildings, muttering to itself.

"It's Megatron! Retreat! Move! Fall back! Fall back!" Ratchet commands, his words making Toby freeze in fear. It's one thing to see a hologram, but another entirely to be in the presence of the real deal.

Screams of terror cloud the air, deafening to those listening. Death. So much death. Toby can see the bodies of the people who have perished already and the grief of those who lost them. This is war. To think that she was going to fight. She should run. Every instinct is commanding her muscles to move, to get away from the Decepticon Lord. But she can't. Not now—not while she has a chance to fight back. The woman pulls up mental barriers in her mind, an attempt to block out the cowardly thoughts. She will fight beside the Autobots as one of them, no matter what it takes.

Sam jolts beside her, the Allspark in his arms, causing her to look over at the thing that scared him. A tow truck sits where there was once empty street, its driver side door slamming shut as someone jumps out. To the woman's surprise, Mikaela comes into view, her appearance making Sam stand.

"Sam, help me with this," she pulls him over to the back of the truck, gesturing to Toby as well.

The woman quickly catches on, yanking on the cables and handing them to the teenagers. She soon joins them as they attach them onto Bumblebee's armour, though reluctant to allow the scout permission to do this at the thought of worsening his injuries.

The air vibrates with the sound of a jet, followed almost immediately afterwards with the sight of the aircraft. Only this one appears to be half jet, as a claw holds the Autobot First Lieutenant in its grasp. It flies up to the top of the buildings, its form shifting into a monster many times the size bigger than it was and traps Jazz beneath its pede as it lands on a clock tower. Jazz squirms, his efforts of escape useless against this foe.

"Is that all you've got Megatron?" He cockily addresses the Decepticon before he's grabbed again.

"Come here, you little cretin," Megatron growls, picking up the lieutenant.

Fear and panic fills Toby, the emotions reminding her of the gun in her pocket. Her fingers fumble for the grip as she runs, every second it takes losing time for Jazz.

"You wanna piece of me?" Her finger slides onto the trigger, the barrel of the gun pointing at Megatron's back. "You want a piece?"

Time slows dramatically as the Decepticon grabs the other side of Jazz. Every gear and joint becomes visible to the woman. She sees them spin and tick, each motion aiding in the movement of the giant.

Her heart pounds in her ears. _Babum...... Babum...... Babum...... Babum._ Screams become silent.

A weak breeze blows a short strand of hair in front of her face, the ginger lock not hindering her sight. She inhales the dusty air. _In......... and out._

"No," Megatron snarls, pulling on Jazz.

The gun whirs dangerously, powering the deadly shot.

Jazz screams in pain, the parts in his abdomen popping and snapping out of place.

"I want—"

_Click._

Time returns as the projectile flies free, it's intended target tormenting the Autobot in his claws as he prolongs his agony.

_Boom._

Toby blinks, her heart thundering in her chest.

_'No.'_

"—two."

Jazz's screams come to an abrupt end as Megatron tears him in half.

Toby chokes on a sob, her hand plastering itself on her mouth as she fights back the flood of emotions. She falls to her knees, gun slipping from her hand in shock.

"You think that a child's toy can sway me?" The Decepticon turns to face the trembling woman, a grin on his dermas, though misses the change of expression on her face. "Pathetic."

The woman shakes her head, hands clenching into fists as she moves. First, the gun is returned to her pocket. Then, she fights to stand on her feet. Her knees shake. Fury is difficult to contain.

She glances at Megatron one last time, finding his optics already on her. Toby growls lowly and forces herself to turn around and run.

Her feet pick up the pace, and as she turns to avoid a chunk of concrete, she barrels into someone. She falls backwards, landing rather ungracefully on her rear.

"What are you doing, kid?" The man picks himself off the ground, revealing his military uniform.

"Helping," Toby replies sharply, getting to her feet before moving past him.

"Hey," he grabs her arm, "I can't allow another civilian to get into this mess."

"With all due respect, _sir_ ," she snatches her arm from his grip, glaring at him menacingly, "I know what I'm doing."

The soldier appears to be about to retort, only to be interrupted by a shout. "Toby?"

The woman freezes, turning around to face the owner of the voice. "Uncle Robert?"

An African-American man in uniform stands in momentary shock before composing himself. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I got caught up in an alien war, same as you," she shrugs, already turning back to find Sam. "As nice as this is, we both have a battle to fight."

"Stay safe, kiddo," he nods reluctantly.

Toby smiles to herself, jogging through the street towards the place she abandoned the teenagers, stumbling across the same soldier from before shouting at Sam.

"Listen to me! You're a soldier now! Alright? I need you to take this Cube. Get it into military hands while we hold them off, or a lot of people are gonna die," he turns to Mikaela, who pretty much just glares at him. "You gotta go. You gotta go."

"No, I'm not leaving," she stays out of his grip, dodging his attempts to gently grab her.

"You need to go. Go."

"No, I'm not leaving 'til I get Bumblebee out of here, okay?" Her eyes harden, making the soldier falter.

"Hey," all eyes look at Toby, "what's the plan? I missed half of it."

" _You_ are getting out of here."

"Let me make myself clear," she glances at the soldier's name tag on his vest, "Lennox, I have been with these guys since the beginning of this. And I made a promise. One that I'm not going to break, especially now after watching that demented owl Decepticon, Megatron, rip apart one of my friends."

Lennox doesn't make an attempt to stop the woman as she marches over to Sam, her rage boiling in her eyes. "Sam is taking the Cube to that building over there," the captain points, gaining a nod from Toby, "and we are buying him time."

"Time that we are now wasting," Toby pats the teenager with the back of her hand, jerking her head in the direction of the building. "Come on, I'll help cover you."

"You got a gun?" Lennox asks, wanting to know if she needs to be armed.

"Of sorts," she smirks, turning away with Sam before he starts to run.

"Sam, we will protect you," Toby jumps, unaware of Ironhide's presence, but smiles upon seeing the Autobot medic behind him.

"Already forgotten me, Trigger Fingers?" She smirks, holding her arms out wide in a sarcastic motion. "Some friend you are."

"We will keep you safe."

"I'll do that on my own, my priority is Sam and that Cube," the mechanic grabs the teen's sleeve, jerking him forward as a gesture to run. "Come on."

"Sam!" The boy slips from Toby's hand, halting at the sound of Mikaela's voice. "No matter what happens, I'm really glad I got in that car with you."

Toby groans, once again pulling him away from his girlfriend. "As romantic as this moment is, now is _not_ the time!"

"Get to the building!" Ironhide orders, backed up by a 'move!' from Ratchet as he readies his weapon.

The two take off running, Toby practically dragging the teenager behind her as her feet pound against the road. Never, in all her life, has she ever run so fast. Missiles and shells explode behind them, spraying them with dust as Ratchet and Ironhide fire back at the enemy.

Toby glances over her shoulder, her eyes widening upon seeing the tank Decepticon shooting at them. "I thought that guy was dead!"

"Can't. Talk. Keep. Running," Sam puffs, sprinting faster than previously, threatening to leave the woman in his dust.

A familiar jet engine roars in their ears, and Toby tackles the boy to the ground, shielding him with her own body. The telltale sound of a Cybertronian transforming rattles their bones, the Decepticon kicking the cars at its pedes in an explosion of blinding sparks, sending them in all directions.

Toby howls in pain, a piece of scrap metal ripping across her back, though its sound is lost in the heat of the battle. She risks a peek at the Decepticon towering over them and tilts her head at his shape. Starscream shrieks in blood lust, firing at the two Autobots in front as they return the favour. After dealing his damage, he flies off, going between Ironhide and Ratchet as they collapse from their wounds.

"Get Sam to the building," Ironhide rasps, steadying himself with a cannon.

Toby rolls off Sam, biting her lip to keep from whimpering when chunks of stone enter the gash on her back. He helps her stand, failing to notice her pain as he pulls her to run alongside him.

People fill the streets, all screaming in terror as they try to escape the city. Those unaware of the current battle are left confused and abandoned on the side of the road, many still driving their cars as though nothing about today is different.

The duo knock over several people, not bothering to apologise as they sprint through the crowds. They run out onto the road to avoid the worst of the people, risking the cars that drive there. Then, for the second time in five minutes, Toby sees a danger that heads straight towards Sam.

The boy tumbles to the ground, the Allspark falling from his hands and landing on the pavement with a shock wave of blue sparks. A groan has Sam looking behind him, discovering Toby sprawled on the tarmac and a car a mere foot away. She coughs, slowly picking herself from the dirt with the bumper of the car that knocked her flat.

"Toby!" Sam lifts her to her feet, though she ignores him, displaying a rather vulgar hand gesture to the driver before stumbling over to the Cube. As she reaches to grab it, her attention is captured by something else.

Two sets of blood red optics stare at her in fear, rage, and respect. The woman freezes, eyes locked on the two Cybertronian youngsters in front of her.

"Run, children," she whispers, her voice imprinting in their young processors. "Run from this battle and be safe."

They scatter, taking her words to spark as they make their escape. Toby sighs, the breath painful and difficult, her hands hovering over the Allspark.

"Sam, you are going to take this and run as fast as you possibly can, do you hear me?" She looks over her shoulder at the boy, who only now sees the wound across her back.

He gulps thickly, nodding his head. She breathes in relief, finally taking the Allspark in her two hands. Toby turns to return the Cube to its runner, only to drop it.

Blue sparks run up her arms, an intensifying feeling of heat and raw power speeding through her veins. She inhales sharply, her chest tightening as she collapses to the ground in complete agony. A groan leaves her lips, her head beginning to pound and the world starts to spin.

"Toby!" The voice echoes madly in her skull, causing the woman's stomach to knot.

"Go," she manages to say, words slurring. "Leave me."

"No! I-I can't—"

"Go!" Toby roars, scaring the boy into moving. She only hears his fading footsteps as he disappears, abandoning her to suffer in agony.

Noise merges into an ear splitting whine, making the woman clap her hands over her ears to silence it. The knot in her stomach grows, and fire burns throughout her body. Memories flash past in a blur, speeding through her life until suddenly they stop. One image remains in her mind. Megatron.

That rust-bucket murdered her good friend. That nightmarish beast wants to destroy all that's good. That Decepticon is going to die.

A combination of adrenaline and hard set determination gives Toby the will to stand, her pain numbing her body until she can't feel anything at all. The world becomes silent, the screaming people of Mission City running without a sound—like a movie put on mute. Wind ruffles her hair as she turns toward the raging battle.

She sees Optimus be blasted into a building, falling to the ground with a pained grunt. The cause is not hard to miss. Megatron stands victorious, looking to where Sam once stood, finding only the woman with her gaze locked on his form.

He laughs, a cruel sound that sends shivers down one's spine, finding amusement in the human's hatred. The Decepticon Warlord narrows his optics at her, recognising her as the one who shot him.

"Primus sends two to end me, but I shall end them both!"

The woman tilts her head, eyes cold, and hand on her gun. "I wouldn't say so, Megatron," her voice is deadly soft, carrying through the air. "No-one sent me."  
  
  


★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	8. | | The Smell of Death | |

_"There can be no light without darkness."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Dust blows across the street, swirling around the two figures; one human, and one alien. Screams of terror drown out the sounds of the battle, though deafeningly silent to the young female. Every breath is difficult for her; not due to her impact with the car, or the encounter with Starscream, but to the smell. The scent of death is heavy in the air, its foul stench filling her lungs.

"A child can do nothing against me!" Megatron claims, roaring pridefully. "I am the leader of the Decepticons!"

"A child is innocent," the woman steps forward, eyes never leaving her target. "But I lost my innocence many years ago. It will not be a child that takes you from this world."

"So much talk," he sneers, sharp denta glinting in the sun. "Tell me, are you all bark and no bite?"

"Oh, trust me, Rust-Bucket, I have plenty of bite," Toby growls, features darkening tremendously as she lifts her gun.

Megatron snarls, running towards the woman, ready to end the insect's life.

The woman squeezes the trigger, the projectile exploding on impact.

The Decepticon remains almost unfazed, only a flash of annoyance to be found on his faceplates. "You will die!"

"Everyone has their time, I just happen to know that your time is up," Toby rolls behind an abandoned car as his massive pede crashes down where she was just moments ago. "And I don't care if you smash my hourglass, because I have served what purpose I had in life."

The car shielding her suddenly disappears, picked up by Megatron. He grins in victory, tossing the vehicle aside and reaching for her with a clawed servo.

The second his optics are in clear view, she fires. He howls in pain, scratching at his faceplates as he stumbles backwards. Megatron hollers, clicking furiously when his vision clears and finds that his prey has disappeared.

"If you do not fear for your own death, perhaps you will for the death of one of your Autobot allies," He eyes the rubble in the street, crouching to catch the woman's scent. The Decepticon rumbles in anger as something shoots the more vulnerable section of his back struts. He whips around, smashing several cars in the process, unknowingly creating a path for his prey to travel unnoticed.

"You already killed one of them!" Toby howls, laying flat to the ground behind a mound of concrete. Rage fills her voice, rattling harshly in her throat.

"And you failed to save him, did you not?" She curses at his amusement, having nothing to snap back. "That is because you are weak. And the weak do not survive."

The whir of her plasma blaster alerts the Decepticon leader to her location, causing him to press his gun barrel to the pile of fallen debris with a smirk. There's a terrific explosion, his shot leaving a deep, smoking crater in the road.

He stands, victorious in his endeavour, and turns to the now empty street, seeking the scent of the adolescent male that carries the Allspark. His pede steps shake the city, sending the humans bolting in the opposite direction and the Autobots retreating to their commander.

A burning sensation arises on his shoulder strut, and a miniscule force sways his form. He roars, swinging his helm to face the being that dares attack him, but who he sees makes him step back in the slightest movement. The woman from before, his prey, stands with her footing firm and gun at eye level, festering hatred practically glowing in her glacier blue orbs.

"Then how come I'm still alive, _scrapheap_ ," her voice almost remains unheard she growls so lowly.

"You will not be for much longer, I assure you," the Decepticon swipes at her, only to receive an armour-melting blast to his servo. He watches in screaming agony as the tip of a digit dulls in the glowing heat.

"Come esto, falla," his prey snarls dangerously, pulling her trigger again. The blast hits the same place, and she fires again.

Megatron roars in agony, his servo melting further with each shot fired, attempting to knock the woman off her feet. With a flick of a digit that narrowly misses her head, she steps backwards, her repeated fire halting for less than a second—a moment the Decepticon uses to his advantage.

He backhands her, knocking the gun from her hand and sends her flying into the wall of a building with a scream. All the air in her lungs disappears, leaving her breathless and motionless. Small tears escape her eyes, leaving a trail on her dust coated cheeks.

"You were a fool to think could take on the might of the Decepticons!" His figure strides over, blurry and wavering in the woman's vision.

"I'm—," she gulps, her arms shaking as she pushes herself from the ground, "I'm a foolish person."

"That will be the end of you."

"Maybe so, but I like to think that my actions affect those around me. My foolishness will likely destroy you," hardly a whisper, but it is heard.

Megatron laughs at her words, reaching for her again. Seeing the action before it happens, the woman rolls out of the way, landing her in a filthy alleyway. The Decepticon grins, knowing his prey is finally defeated.

With a cough, Toby presses herself against a dumpster bin, clutching her ribs as her adrenaline wears off. She must have broken a bone or something when she hit the wall, because every breath is absolute agony. The world spins and her head pounds, whatever happened when she touched the Allspark coming back to haunt her.

She whimpers quietly, risking a fleeting glance at the Decepticon, inhaling sharply with wide eyes when discovering two crimson red optics already locked on her. The woman smirks grimly, a strand of hair loosing itself from her white baseball cap.

A thunderous growl rumbles through the alley she hides in and a disfigured servo closes around her. She feels her bones creak, her ribs cracking from the applied pressure, but she does not scream. Her lungs are on fire and her head pounds dangerously, her sight becoming nothing more than a blur of colours and shapes.

"I'll enjoy killing you, insect," Megatron hisses through clenched denta, standing to his full height with the woman in his grasp.

Toby groans, refusing to look down as her stomach clenches. Black spots appear in her vision, and she gasps for air, only to find that she can't.

"Toby!" A fearful cry rings in her ears, her lack of oxygen making it impossible to recognise the owner.

"Ah, so the Autobots care for you, do they?" He grins at his discovery, watching the woman struggle to stay conscious. "Good. Then they can watch you die."

"Y-you will b-e the o-o-one t-to die tod-d-day, M-Mega-atron," she wheezes, meeting his optics the best she can, her cold fury still burning viciously in her eyes.

"We shall see, disciple of Primus."

The words don't register properly, leaving her cross-eyed and confused as the pressure increases, pulling an agonising scream from her lips. Her throat runs dry and her pained screams become cracked and hoarse.

Her screams decrease in volume while the Decepticon warlord loosens his grip, intent on making the woman suffer in her last moments. His free servo shifting into his arm, quickly replaced by a long blade that glints threateningly in the afternoon sun.

Toby suddenly finds herself feeling weightless, falling through the air towards the growing ground. There's a sickening crunch accompanied by an ear splitting scream as the woman's leg crumples beneath her.

A flash of metal and Toby accepts her fate, crying out again as her own blood splatters across her face. Her right arm burning in agonising heat, numb from the elbow down. Metal flashes again, this time red adorns it like a trophy, and the woman loses her ability to feel anything other than pain, screaming herself hoarse with tears streaming down her face.

The ground trembles, though she has no knowledge of it, not as warmth oozes from her open wounds, threatening her life further with each passing second. Every breath is a wheezing gasp, her broken ribs pressing hazardously against her lungs. Her clothes become wet and sticky, her once white top now crimson in colour and red drying on her cheeks.

Megatron walks away, abandoning the woman to bleed out in the street, knowing that she won't survive much longer. The Decepticon is victorious, now all he requires is the Cube held by the insufferable adolescent male.

And she remains still, icy eyes almost unblinking in a pool of her own blood with a hand reaching for her fallen white cap, splattered with rust coloured gore.

☆★☆

The fallen body of Megatron lays still amongst the rubble, a gaping hole in his chest. His optics display no sign of life, no chance of return for the Decepticon warlord. But his corpse bears scars, recent ones at that, and not even Optimus Prime can figure out what caused them.

Soldiers and Autobots surround the Prime and the boy at his pedes, all grateful for what they have done on this day.

"Sam, I owe you my life. We are in your debt," Optimus kneels before the boy, eternally thankful for his actions.

A GMC tow truck pulls up in the middle of the street, carrying a scarred Bumblebee behind it. The soldiers turn to face the newcomer as they jump out of the cabin, a weary Mikaela Banes greeting them before looking at Sam. Their eyes lock and the girl gives him a proud smile that he returns graciously.

"Prime," the weapon specialist's voice causes the Autobot leader to turn, a sad sight greeting him, "we couldn't save him."

"Oh, Jazz," he takes his fallen friend's body in his servos, saddened by the loss. "We lost a great comrade, but gained new ones," he looks to the humans with gratitude. "Thank you, all of you. You honour us with your bravery."

"Permission to speak, sir?" A new voice speaks with a thick accent, drawing attention to the young Autobot scout.

"Permission granted, old friend," despite his grief, joy fills Optimus' spark upon hearing his friend's voice for the first time in many centuries.

"You speak now?" Sam jumps up, spinning to face his guardian with a beaming smile.

"I wish to stay with the boy," Bumblebee acknowledges his friend briefly before returning his gaze to his leader.

"If that is his choice."

"Yes," Sam speaks with no hesitation, eyes sparkling with acceptance

Ratchet paces behind the Prime, optics scanning the humans that surround them with anticipation. Unable to stay silent any longer, he faces his friend, concern evident on his faceplates. "Where is our companion? Where is Toby?"

"I have not seen our friend since before the battle," Optimus' optic brows furrow, mirroring the medic in worry.

"We'll send out a search party," Lennox steps forward, unfazed by the size difference between the two species. "What does he look like?"

" _She_ is about your height, with ginger hair—" the medic begins, gesturing to the human.

"—wearing a white baseball cap?" The captain finishes, nodding as he remembers her.

"Wait," Epps speaks up, eyes wide in realisation, "Toby Williams, right?"

"That is correct," Ratchet vents in agitation, not fond of being interrupted.

"Will, we should split up, she could be anywhere," the man addresses his friend and superior, attempting to mask his fear.

"I agree," Lennox does not miss the flash in the soldier's eyes, turning to face the rest of the group. "Everyone will pair up with a 'bot—if that works with you," he adds quickly, but already finds that almost all the Autobots have each picked a human.

The captain chooses to go with Ratchet, having only—and quite literally—bumped into her once in the middle of the battle. He asks him simple questions as they go along, despite only receiving answers to a few.

Epps however, goes along with the trigger happy weapons specialist, not saying a word to him as they scour the decimated streets for the younger mechanic. Ironhide, however, seems to have a few things on his processor.

"How do you know Toby?" He asks, checking an alleyway for signs of life, finding only a family of raccoons.

"She's my niece; her mother was a very close friend of mine and made me her honorary uncle when she was born," the soldier pushes over a piece of concrete, grimacing upon finding a dismembered arm. "That's not what I was hoping for."

"What was she like before her carrier passed?"

"Uh, she was sweet, innocent, freakishly intelligent—if you got her going with the mechanics of time, she'd break it down and explain it like a college professor. That was terrifying," he shrugs, thinking of the little child that would ask him to braid her hair and then run off to do it to her mother.

"Not violent, or quick to act?" Ironhide raises an optic brow, curious about his friend's behaviour.

"No, not at all. She would study a situation before she acted and never resorted to violence," he sighs, glancing between abandoned cars. "That only changed after Margret died."

"I see," the weapons specialist hums, looking in another alleyway for the woman.

Epps steps around a scrapheap of crashed vehicles, eyeing the interiors for possible hiding places. Seeing nothing, he jumps on top the crumpled hood of a truck.

His heart all but stops when he catches a glance of a pale, blood splattered hand peeking out from behind a pile of rubble.

 _'No, no, no, no!'_ He barrels over, abandoning Ironhide behind him as he leaps over fallen chunks of building. _'It can't be her! It can't be!'_

His eyes grow wide and a nauseating feeling grows in his stomach. Blood pools around an unrecognisable body, staining their simple attire a grim red. They lay broken on the ground, black bruises colouring their pale skin, and ginger hair spread out around their head, locks stuck together with the red liquid. The most sickening detail is the absence of two limbs—their right leg and their right forearm—clearly removed during the battle as they continuously spout blood from the torn stubs. Two blue eyes shed a steady fall of pain filled tears, staring dully at the cloudless sky.

A white cap lays at his feet, kicked away in the soldier's haste to reach the person's side. He falls to his knees, uncaring of the foul liquid staining his uniform as he searches their face for any kind of familiarity. This time, he's almost certain that his heart actually does stop.

"Tobbes?" The girl's eyes meet his, an agonised sob shaking her chest at the use of her childhood nickname.

"Unc-cle?"

He smiles at her, though it's broken and sorrowful, and pulls his radio from his belt. "Epps to Lennox, do you copy?"

Static fizzes from the other end, quickly replaced by his captain's voice. "~Lennox to Epps, I copy~"

"I've found her, requesting medical aid ASAP," the soldier looks down at the girl, holding his breath as he awaits a response.

"~Request accepted, we'll have medics with you in a moment~" there's a second of static before his voice comes back. "~What state is she in?~"

"Not good, Will. She requires serious medical attention,"

"~We'll be there in a minute~"

"You might want to quicken your pace, she d—she doesn't—" he can't finish his sentence, not wanting to accept that the girl is losing time.

"D-did we w-w-win?" Her voice cracks, fading blue eyes filling with an unending stream of tears.

"Yeah, we won," Epps holds her hand, gently cradling it with his own. He swallows back his grief, determined to remain strong for his little niece.

"Go-od," she wheezes, her fear strong on her pained expression. "Te-e-ell Ratch-chet that I'm t-thankful that I joined h-him. T-that he m-m-made me fe-el accepted for the first t-time since mom d-died."

"You can tell him yourself, Tobbes," the soldier hides a small sob into his sleeve.

"We b-b-both know that's not t-true."

"~Epps, you still there?~" Lennox's voice crackles through the radio, causing the man to snatch it from the ground.

"You better hurry your arse up," he hisses, briefly glancing at the girl beside him.

"~We're almost there~" the ground shakes, proving his statement to be true.

Voices of worry and concern meld together, the girl unable to sort through them all in her barely conscious mind. Black spots dance in her vision, denying her one last view of her family.

The darkness beckons her, calling to her like a siren's song, promising peace and warmth. She reaches for it, stepping closer to answer its summoning. A sound stops her. She turns back to face the land of the living, and though unable to see anything, she can distinctly hear sobs. And... a plea. There are no words she can recognise, in fact, there are no words at all, only whirs and clicks. But there is no doubting that the owner of the voice is begging her to stay.

A soft smile appears on her lips, though weak and weary, she speaks to them. "D-on't cry for me, P-Piston."

"Toby," she knows that voice, very well.

"You have t-the rest of y-y-your li-life to live for oth-thers, just as I-I-I have t-the rest o-of mine," she chuckles, harshly coughing as a result.

"You're not going to die," Ratchet forces himself to remain stoic, preparing what little medical supplies he can use.

"I kn-n-n-new from t-t-the moment t-that the battle b-began, that I-I wasn't going t-to make it," the girl rasps, her eyes looking to the clear skies above. Her body begins to grow cold, and she knows she has little time left. "T-tha-a-ank y-y—"

Her lips part in a silent acceptance of peace, icy blue eyes disappearing beneath heavy lids. The girl's hand falls from her uncle's, leaving him in denial and shock. Sound is non-existent, a peaceful, yet saddening silence taking its place. Darkness consumes her, taking her hand and embracing her with warm and welcoming arms like an old friend greeting another.

_"Toby..."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	9. | | Hello, My Dear | |

_"In darkness there are more stars than you can count, but in the day there is only one."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Toby..." a voice whispers gently._   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Toby," The same voice calls, louder this time._   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_"Toby!"_

_The girl jolts upright, unintentionally catapulting herself out of her bed. She lands with an 'oof', her covers falling on top of her in a heap._

_A soft chuckle echoes in the room, filling the girl with nostalgia before the blanket is lifted from her face. A woman inspects the child's state, a smile gracing her lips as she pulls her from the pile._

_"What were you doing under there, my little knight?" She hums, tickling her daughter's belly._

_"I fell out," the girl giggles, smacking her mother's hands in play._

_"Did you now?" Her mother raises a brow, halting in her assault. "Well, since you're awake, would you like to see something amazing?"_

_She bounces up and down in excitement, 'like a little jackrabbit,' her mother thinks. The little girl grasps the woman's hand, trembling with anticipation._

_"Calm down, little one," a chuckle slips from her lips as she guides the little Toby from her room._

_"What is it, Mommy? What is it?" She skips along, oblivious to the blanket her mother picks off the couch._

_"You'll see; it's a surprise."_

_"What kind of surprise?"_

_"A surprising one."_

_"Awwwh," Toby groans in annoyance, used to the woman's way of avoiding questions._

_"Come now, it wasn't that bad," she smiles down at the girl._

_"Yes it was."_

_Her mother opens the screen door, leading her out onto the porch before shutting it behind them. She switches on a flashlight, lighting their path across the lawn and into the fields of wheat. They follow a well-worn path, the grasses flattened and trampled into a winding trail towards a small clearing._

_The little girl skips beside her older counterpart, innocent and sweet, thinking only of stars and science, her eyes containing hidden vast knowledge. Her free hand grasps her nightdress tightly in a fist, keeping it from dragging in the dirt._

_At last, the wheat parts for the duo, allowing the woman enough room to lay the blanket on the ground. Her daughter watches in curiosity, the gears of her brain spinning wildly to figure what she's doing. After sorting their seating arrangements, her mother takes her seat and beckons the girl. Hesitantly, she plops down in the middle of the blanket and observes as the woman switches off the flashlight._

_A gasp of wonder echoes in the field, the little girl captivated by a sight she has seen a great many times. Countless stars flicker in the night sky, like trapped fireflies, glowing in the girl's wide eyes._

_"Do you see that there?" The woman points to a section of the sky. "That's Aquarius, my little knight. That's my favourite constellation."_

_"Wow," the girl's eyes sparkle with starlight, entranced by the beauty. "That one's my favourite."_

_"Orion?" Her mother asks, a smile on her lips._

_"Yeah."_

_Silence comes between them, nothing needed to be said as they admire the stars above. Margret fidgets, playing with a metal ring on her finger, her thoughts straying to what lies in the future._

_"Toby?"_

_"Hmm."_

_"There's something that I wish to give to you."_

_"Okay."_

_"This is my ring, I made it out of a chunk of meteorite," she slides it off her finger, showing it to her daughter before pulling a piece of string from her pocket and looping it into the ring. "It won't fit you yet, but you can wear it as a necklace until it does."_

_"Thank you, mommy!" The girl takes the homemade necklace from her mother's hands and pulls it over her head. "A piece of the galaxy!"_

_The woman chuckles, pulling Toby closer and sitting her on her lap. "Where do you think the aliens are in the galaxy, hmm?"_

_A moment passes, the little girl thinking deeply with a hand on her chin. "There!"_

_"Where?"_

_"There!" She whines in exasperation, pointing at the sky. Whispers begin to echo around her, though her mother appears oblivious._

_"Between Orion's Belt?"_

_"Between the left and middle star," the longer the girl stares at it, the louder the voices get._

"̴̠͈̩̙̞̼̖̯̱̙̭̂̈̈́͐̀̇̐̔̏͠Ṫ̶̻̯͇̳̜̒͝o̷̪̪̗̣̯͕̟̤̙̖̘͌͆͌̓̽̊̿͐̌͝͝͝͠b̶̮̬̩̩̖̉̉y̵̢̞͚̻͎̗̝̞͕̱̦͍͓̓̌̂̈́̒̀͌̔̈́̿!̸̠͍͚͈̟̫̰̩͆̎̍͋̅"̴̬̙̿͐̈́̽͋͌̂̊̕̕͘͘

_̸_ _̧͈̘̜̠̫̱̓͊̄̿̓_

_"Yeah?" Her mother chuckles softly._

_"Uh huh," the child scrunches up her nose in confusion, straining her ears._

"̶̩̞̼̪̥̘̳̎̊̏̊̈́̔̕̚͜C̵̛͚͎͔̮͙̭͆̿̑̊̊̓̿͘o̷̤̣̻̖̽ͅm̴̪̘̩̰͎͇̜̜̣͌͋̇͠ḛ̶̡̗̻͚̝̣̒ ̴̨̧͓̮̗͕̳͕͊̚o̵̫̜͊͋͂̐̌̐ņ̷͉̥̻̯̬̫̽ͅ,̶̝̉̓ͅͅͅ ̶̦̲̖̽̒̂T̶̗͒͘͜͜ơ̷̗̤͆̀͝b̴̜̿̌̈́͗͗̆͂̓͝͝y̴͚͍̪̒̅͊͘!̸̪̘̳̙̹͓̖͎̒̅͂"̷̡̢̧̨̗̝̜̩̠̍͌͗͜

_"Can you hear that?"_

"̵̬̮͔̞̫͈̹̲̃̎S̸͔̏̈́̎̇̃̒̂̎̚͜t̸͗̅̃̈̔̍̎̉̀̆͜ȃ̴̰̞̘̟̰͕̻̙̱̍̏̓̒̆̓̋̚̚͜y̸̧̢̛̤̰͑̎̔̔̑͊̈́͐̚ ̵̢̛̤̭̭̾͌͋̎̀͛̕͠w̵̢̻̣̱̯͌́̃̈̈̉͠͝i̸̧̳͎͇͇̘͙̺̽͗̄̒͜ͅt̷̢̼̩̦̭̙͆̀h̵̬̲̹̙̊ ̵̨̘̼̰̻͎̺̻̭̋̏̐ͅứ̵̯̍̿͗̾̇͘͜ş̸̻͍̦̪̪̤̊ͅ!̵͙̹͚͕̞̪̂͒̓͗̾̔̂"̸̛̹̗̼̫͍̯͍͐͊̓́͋͗̈́͝

_"Hear what?" The woman tilts her head._

_"Those voices," she focuses on the point between the stars of Orion's Belt, failing to hear her mother._

"̶̩̮̳͒̆̋ͅL̴̛̮̗͎̈́͗̃̈́e̸̼̥̓̂̽̈̓̅t̴̰̦̼̤̭̻̣͇͕̉̑̏͂̂̆̓͘͝ͅ ̵̧̧̞̲̩̜̺̐̅̕͠͠m̵͉͉͛͗͊͗̄͘͝͝è̷̢̝̙̞̩͙̫̙̙̽̍ ̶̡̞̦̜͚̲̋̑͂͋̽̐͝h̸̤̹̞͛̉̾͝e̶̢̧̻̱̙͔̠̒̆̅͜ḻ̶̢̛̗̗͈̗̺̋̃̅̒͒̓̈́̚͜p̷̨̝̜̬̹͍̎̃̿̕!̴̮͖̺̮̦͖́͜͝ͅ"̴̤̥̪̺̻̹͎̌͛̌͑͒͜

"̵̝͌̾̃͌͌͛͊̔Ȓ̷̡̬͍͖͇ͅa̵̛̯͓̗̯̖̯̱͍̣̽̀̇͒t̶̨͎͖̪̞͕͚̦̭̓̀̐͋̚c̸̥̯̗̖̺̜̱̖͆̑̾͐̈́̓̇h̵̦̥̞̐̄̔̋̑̍̃̕̚͝e̶̟͈̔̽̋̎̌̃̚t̶̢̛̩̟͎͙̥̪͙̰͎͐̊͆͐͒͊͛,̶͕̮̦̠͚̟̥̭̰̂͆͊̉̓͌͊͝ ̶̢̳͖̲͉̓͑̓͋̀̓͝͝l̴̠̻͙̭̓́̑̉̔̄́̈̕e̵̡̳͉̞̰̣͔͒̾͒ţ̵̛͆̑̊͆͊̽͜ ̷̬̄̍̑͑t̷̙͐̀̑̋͌͘̚̚h̴͚̝̗̟̹̯̥͇͒ͅȩ̵͓̤͖̇m̵̢͓̋ ̶͖̮̘̖̒̇̀̂͝d̵̡̝̤͍͈͚͙̬͍̦̒̈́͌̒o̴̮̓̇͛̾̉̉̊͝ ̵̡̦̤̤͖̙̾͜t̵̫͈͓̠͓̹͕͍͐̂̍̈́͛̆͠h̵̹̟͎̰̫͙̔ę̸̲͇̣̫̬͍̬̐́́ḯ̷̛̠̙̟͍ŗ̶̖̭̖̝̃̿̄͆̆̓̆͐̇͝ j̴̨̲̹̦̻̟̜͙͘ͅo̸̥̪̜͕͂̄̂̅̅͗̕̚̕b̵̡̢̛̙̬̻̟̺̝́͂̇̍͒̀̔̚͠ͅͅ!̴̢̯̙̘̭̜̻̳̆̅"̵̵̨̢͉̥̻̣͍͔͉͇̥͙͕͔̩̼̰̇̊̑̂͋"̷̠̈́͝

"B̸̨̟̱͈͈͚̗͉̠̟̒̍ų̸̨̤̪̱̠̯̙͌͗͑͑́͑̚̚t̶̜̯̰͖̯̖͎̩͍̃͆͒͛̋͐͜ ̵̨̧͚̞͚͉̳̮͌͂͗͗̓͑̀̕I̶̦̻̙̮̮̙͎̣͙͌̈́̽̿ ̵̢̧̺̳̖̝̥̖̭̗̄̒̆̋̌̀͆̕c̸̛̩̟͚̳̿͒̈a̷͕͖̯̠̜͉̳̞͘͜n̷̼̱̰͙̰̥͊̈́̔̂͜—!"

"Thą̵̡̡̗̖̲͉͔͗͗̍ͅt̸̤͊́̓̅̋̽̿͠ is an̸̡̨̡͙̮̳̹̮̙̠̈́̃ ̵̨̥̺̫̗͖̮͂̈́̓̈́̊͊̔o̶͕̓̐̍͌̔̿̓̆̕͠r̵̰̺͂͑̊̽͝der!" A v̶͙̤̮̘̙̩̤͓̖̊̓̐͘͠ͅoice snaps, silencing another.

"She's conscious!"

"Keep her under! She's awake much too early!"

The voices merge together as the world spins, becoming unfocused and blurry. Figures in white rush around what appears to be a hospital room, and two tall people—what are they, statues?—stand nearby, one of them looking impatient and nervous, and the other expresses an aura of suppressed emotion. Others stand watch behind glass, their figures too undetailed to identify.

"W-what ha-p-p-pened," it's a miracle the girl is even heard at all.

"Shh, shh. Easy now," a man's silhouette comes close to her face, fiddling with something above her head. Her mind becomes muddled, and her eyelids droop, bringing her back to darkness. "That's it, go to sleep."

And just like that, her whole world goes blank.

☆★☆

_"Hey, mom," Toby dumps her school bag on the workshop desk, abandoning it there as she continues her quest to reach her mother._

_"Hello, dear, how was school?" Margret Williams doesn't look up from her computer, but her teenage daughter knows she's listening._

_"School? School was terrible as usual," the mechanic groans, hoisting herself up on the table behind her. "Work was typical. Oh!" She snaps her fingers, as though just remembering something she'd forgotten. "I discovered an alien species today."_

_"Yeah? What're they called?" The woman smirks to herself, editing her research paper._

_"They call themselves 'Cybertronians'," Toby does jazz hands and whispers the last word to make it seem 'magical'._

_"Do they now?"_

_"Yup. And their planet was called 'Cybertron'," she hums, making herself comfortable on the table. "The group I met were part of a faction going by the name of 'Autobots' and they're in the middle of a civil war with the 'Decepticons'. They're on Earth to find a pair of glasses and offered to take me along but I declined."_

_"Why'd you do that, then?"_

_"Said I already had enough adventure as it is, that I had something to look forward to when I came home for the night," the young woman absently picks at her hands, eyeing the blueprints plastered to the sheet metal walls._

_"You could've said yes, you know," Margret looks over her shoulder at her full grown daughter._

_"I know."_

_"Did you at least give them a way to contact you?"_

_"I gave them the house address and my cell number," the younger woman slides her phone from her pocket, staring at it almost longingly as she runs her fingers over the details._

_"What's the truth?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"What's the real reason behind your declination?"_

_"I—" she looks at her feet, sighing deeply, "I'm scared, mom. They themselves didn't scare me, but their talk of war did."_

_"What could you lose?"_

_"Everything!" The youngster screams, tears falling down her cheeks. "I could lose you, dad, even my own limbs! I'm_ **_scared_ ** _."_

_Her mother stands from her chair, abandoning her day's work, and pulls her into a hug. The woman hushes her crying child, tucking her head beneath her chin, and strokes her hair comfortingly._

_"It's alright to_ **_fear_ ** _, my little knight, but it's not okay to deny yourself what you need because you failed to_ **_see_ ** _." Margret whispers, taking her daughter's hands in her own._

_"I was too scared to_ **_listen_ ** _, mom," she mutters, taking a shaky breath. "I ignored my own_ **_heart_ ** _and ran away."_

_"Just breathe," the woman kisses Toby's forehead before taking a step back. "Now, what does your soul say to you?"_

_"To run."_

_"Where?"_

_"To them."_

_"Good, darling, that's good. That means it's your_ **_destiny_ ** _," her mother smiles._

_"That's so cheesy, mom," the girl groans in fake annoyance._

_"Maybe, but it's_ **_true_ ** _."_

_"So what should I do?"_

_"Go, take the truck," she tosses Toby a key chain. "They need_ **** **you** _."_

_"I'm gonna miss this," the mechanic grins, gesturing to the workshop. "All of this."_

_"Me too," her mother admits, a tear rolling down her cheek. "But you're needed out there. They need you to_ **_fight_ ** _. To fight for your_ **_life_ ** _."_

_"I know," the young woman jumps off the table, hesitating for a moment before throwing her arms around the older woman, giving her one last hug. "I_ **_love_ ** _you, mom. I love you so much."_

_"I love you too, my dear," she pulls her daughter off of her, pushing her towards the still open door. "Now go, you'll be late!"_

_"Bye, mom!" The young woman waves enthusiastically, sprinting out the workshop door. "I'll tell them about you!"_

_Her mother laughs, watching her disappear down the road. "Don't forget to thank Ratchet for me!"_

_"I won't!"_

_"_ **_Never forget how proud I am of you_ ** _!"_   
  
  


★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	10. | | Am I Not Dead? | |

_"The darkest nights have the brightest stars."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★ _  
_

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

What in the pits is that?! It's certainly annoying. Maybe a hospital machine?

Oh, _scrap._ Everything's numb. Or, no. Everything _hurts_. Which of the two she's feeling, Toby doesn't know. So, naturally, she does the only thing any sane person would do. Complain.

"Man, I feel worse than a truck laid to rust in a farmer's field," she groans, eyes fluttering open.

"Toby!" Someone shouts, their voice ringing endlessly in the woman's ears.

"Ow. Could you lower the volume a bit?" She winces, scrunching her eyes shut in an attempt to calm her now raging headache.

"Sorry," they chuckle awkwardly.

"That's better. Now, can someone please tell me how I'm not dead?" She remembers the warm embrace of darkness and a fleeting flash of her mother's face.

"Always the comedian, aren't you, Tobbes?" Her eyes snap open, a blinding array of colours assaulting her corneas. It takes a few moments for her to adjust, everything going from a blurry outline to a crisp image.

Every inch of the room is either pure white, or a gentle baby blue. Plastic-y sheets cover her very _sore_ form, and some sort of barrier type thing rests on either side of the hospital bed to keep her from falling out. An IV line remains snug in her left arm, why not her right one she does not understand. And while she can wiggle her left toes, she cannot for her right.

A dark figure stands by her head, tears in their eyes and a broad smile on their lips. They wear a military uniform and it looks like they have spent almost all their waking hours in the room.

"When am I not?" Toby smiles weakly at her uncle, feeling slightly doped up on painkillers.

"I'm glad you're okay, Toby."

"Okay? I freaking took on the almighty Decepticon warlord single handedly and got crushed like a bug! I assure you, I am anything but okay!"

"So you're awesome, then."

"Dang straight," she nods the best she can. A cough looses itself from her lungs, scraping her throat of whatever moisture it has.

"Easy, Tobbes, you took a massive beating," her uncle adjusts her pillow to elevate her position.

"Uh huh," the woman croaks, struggling to take a breath.

"I'm just going to grab one of the doctors, okay?"

"R—" she heaves, her coughing fit triggering her gag reflex, "Rat-atch—"

"It's alright. You're alright," Epps soothes, softly rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

"Ratch-et," she wheezes, tears now rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," her uncle apologises, earning a confused glare from the woman. "We're not where they are."

She shakes her head furiously, coughing violently. "I w-ant Ra-tch-et."

"No can do, kiddo," he ruffles her hair playfully. "He's quite a ways from here."

Toby shoots him her famous death-glare, finally recovering from her coughing fit. She moves her right arm to move her hair behind her ear, but freezes in shock at what she sees.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Toby, but there was nothing that could be done," his voice goes unheard as the woman examines her appendage.

Her arm stops at what once was her elbow, but graphic scars ripple through the flesh, a longer stretch of heavily damaged skin reaching up towards her shoulder. Fresh tears spring to her eyes as she realises what this means for her. No more mechanics. No more inventing. No more _anything_.

Then the numbness in her right leg feels more foreign, less real. Before her uncle can stop her, the covers are ripped off and the sight becomes more than she can bear. Nothing of her right leg exists any more, nothing but a useless stump that can't do anything more than shuffle.

She chokes on a sob, hiding her face in her hand. Her whole world is gone, the only thing that kept her going is now stripped from her. The tears keep coming, falling down her face and splashing on her hospital gown. Her hair plasters to her wet cheeks, often getting in her mouth as she sobs brokenly.

"Shh, shh. It's alright," Epps rubs her back, soothing her the best he can.

"No!" Toby screams at him, allowing herself to take out her anger on him. "Nothing's alright! I want Ratchet! I want Ironhide! I want Optimus! I want the Autobots! I want my family," she mutters the last bit, not really wanting her uncle to hear it.

"Look, I can't bring them in, but I can bring your dad," he tries to bargain.

"For Primus' sake! I don't want him! I _left_ him! Just let me see my Autobots!" Toby collapses onto the hospital bed, her body shaking with sobs.

"Shh, just calm down. I'm sure we can work something out," her uncle pulls a chair closer, no longer intent on finding a doctor.

The woman sighs, sniffling slightly. "What happened to me?"

"Well, you know that you fought Megatron but we're assuming that during your fight with him, he got the upper hand and managed to cut off your arm and leg," Robert starts slowly, being careful not to cause a panic attack or something of the like. "You were practically dead by the time we got medics to you; Ratchet was on the verge of a breakdown, he was trying so desperately to help but he may have actually made your condition worse."

Toby stiffens, searching the man's eyes for any sign of a lie, though she knows he would never do such a thing. "What do you mean?"

"When you became unconscious, he was trembling. I don't know exactly what he did, but you were losing blood a lot faster than you were before, and our medics had to scream at him to let them take you.The only place we could go to at that time was Hoover Dam—it has like a serious Men in Black kinda thing there, labs and everything—and they had to clear out one of the medbay rooms to keep you alive."

The woman nods slowly, her shoulders shaking as she restrains herself from bursting into tears. Her uncle takes notice, calmly rubbing the back of her hand in a comforting motion.

"You woke up during surgery, and—if we're being honest—they don't know how you woke up," she tilts her head at the man in confusion. "You were on some serious sedatives that should have kept you under, but you still came to."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do I, Tobbes, but it happened," Robert clears his throat, returning to his story. "Ratchet refused to leave your side during the procedure, and even tried to convince the doctors to let him help."

"How?" Toby catches the confusion of the man, explaining her question further. "How was he trying to help?"

"I don't know, but he was pretty desperate about it," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck slightly.

"What's the date today?"

"Twenty-first of June; you were out for roughly a month," he checks the digital watch on his wrist.

"And out for my first two weeks of being nineteen," she remarks with a sigh.

"Oh, shoot! What day?"

The ex-mechanic gives him a deadpan expression, her exasperation shown clearly in her posture. "That's sad, uncle. You forgot your favourite niece—actually, scratch that—your _only_ niece's birthday."

"I'm sorry! I was a bit busy trying to sort out an alliance between two species!" Robert whines, feeling genuine guilt.

"The sixth of June."

"Happy belated birthday?" He looks at his feet under the intimidating glare of the woman.

"I better get some cake out of that," she huffs, leaning further into her hospital bed.

"At some point," her uncle shrugs, still feeling immensely guilty.

They sit in a comfortable silence for several minutes before Toby's eyes widen, the heart monitor increasing its pace.

"Scrap!" She swears loudly, groaning as her head begins to pound.

"What's that?"

"I missed my exams!" The soldier chuckles at the woman's panic and misfortune.

"Have fun with that, kiddo," he laughs, quickly moving out of the way to avoid getting whacked.

A crackle erupts from his radio, static fizzing erratically. "~Lennox to Epps, your assistance is required~"

The soldier groans, shooting the woman an apologetic look. "I swear, if Ironhide and Ratchet are fighting again."

"I might be able to help out," Toby tries to bargain.

"Sorry, but technically you're not allowed to interact or communicate with them until this whole thing is sorted out," he unhooks his radio from his belt. "Epps to Lennox, message received. Will be there ASAP."

"Tell him that I say 'hi'," the woman says with a smile. "And to relay that to the Autobots."

Robert chuckles, shaking his head at his niece's way around small issues. "Toby says 'hi'."

There's a short pause before a spurt of static reappears. "~How's she doing?~"

"She's good overall; she woke up today. Toby?" He offers the radio to the young woman.

"Hullo!" She says cheerfully. "Pass that onto the boys for me If you could!"

A crackling chuckle speaks from the radio, making the woman smile slightly. "~I'll be sure to do that~"

"Thanks," Toby coughs, wincing at the sudden flush of pain it causes.

Robert stands from his seat, taking back his radio. "Sorry, Tobbes, I've gotta go now."

"I know," she smiles somewhat sadly. "Could you bring some form of entertainment next time you visit?"

"Yeah, I'll do that," he ruffles her hair playfully, making his way to the door. "Rest well. I'll see you as soon as I can."

"Bye, uncle."

The door clicks shut, leaving the young woman to wallow in her carefully hidden self pity and despair. Memories of darkness swim in her mind, and swallows her in a blanket of deceitful comfort.

☆★☆

In a near empty hospital room, a young woman rests in bed with a book in her only hand, completely oblivious to the commotion outside her room. The heart monitor beeps at a steady pace, its sound remaining ignored by the reading woman.

Toby sighs, flipping the page with some difficulty. It's been five days since her uncle last visited, and eight since she woke up. At least he brought her a stack of books.

A click causes the woman to look up, brows furrowed by the unannounced visitor. Though her brows shoot up as a _very_ armoured and heavy duty bodyguard walks into the room, followed by two others.

Toby eyes them carefully, trying to figure out the reason for them being there. One last figure walks in, looking very formal in his suit and tie. The woman slowly puts down her copy of _'Jurassic Park'_ and raises a single brow at the man.

"Secretary of Defense, John Keller," Toby hums cautiously. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Keller shuffles on his feet, looking very humbled as he stands in the woman's presence. "I wanted to give you a formal 'thank you' for what you did in the Battle of Mission City, Toby Williams."

"And what else?" She studies him carefully, knowing not to stretch the respect she is being given. "I know that there's a little more to this unexpected visit than a simple 'thank you'."

He sighs, looking her in the eyes. "Our 'foreign friends' have been requesting that they contact you, and they're getting quite impatient. I also would like to hear of your history with Sector Seven."

Toby stiffens at the mention of the government group, sitting up straighter in discomfort. She glances at the Secretary warily before gesturing to the empty seat by her bed. "You may want to sit down for the story, but I would like to discuss the situation with our 'foreign friends' before I get started."

Keller smiles humbly, sitting down next to her and placing his elbows on his knees. "Right, well, they've become very fidgety as of late, particularly the medic, and have started making demands to see you. I hope you understand when I say that until we've sorted out a treaty, I cannot allow you to do that."

"I understand, Mr Secretary," the woman nods slowly. "Though I will ask if it's possible to speak with them, as I'm sure there are many things that they wish to say, just as I have many questions for them."

"Please, no formalities," the man waves a dismissive hand, making the ex-mechanic smirk. "But I will see what I can do as far as communication goes. Now, I've heard from our friends that you have quite the tale to tell about Sector Seven, could you tell me?"

Toby's smirk disappears instantly, her gaze turning to look out the window at the rain falling outside. A somber mood fills the room, further deepened by the unsettling silence.

"I personally know two Sector Seven agents, John," the woman sighs, misty eyes distant. "Seymour Simmons and my dad, Arthur Williams. My mother was an intelligent woman; she was an inventor and a theorist. At one point in my life, about ten years ago now, Simmons started giving my father more work than necessary and as a result, he stayed away for longer periods of time. Then he decided that my mom's work was a threat to security and confiscated everything she had ever created."

Keller sits up straight, his eyes full of displeasure and anger. He sticks a hand in his pocket, feeling for the charm his own mother gave him, and plays with it absently. Movement catches his eye, drawing his attention momentarily to watch the woman play with a silver coloured ring. He hums quietly in understanding, knowing only that the piece of jewelry holds some importance to her.

"Mom got sick due to the sudden stress, to the point that she became bedridden. She died when I was eleven," Toby takes a deep breath, shutting her eyes to ease the sorrow.

"I'm sorry," the young woman glances at the older man in mild surprise. "I'm sorry that you lost her that way. What was her name?"

"Margret Hills," she doesn't miss the way Keller freezes at the name. "Afterwards, my father came home to 'care for me'. He drowned himself in his misery and refused to look at me because of my resemblance to mom. I had to learn very quickly how to take care of myself; getting a job and buying my own food. Somewhere along the line, my father started blaming me for mom's death and saw it fit to tell me as such. In all honesty, I'm not completely sure, but I believe that many of the things he said could be considered verbal abuse. I lived an awful life for years, John."

Toby looks away from the man as she sees the pity and sympathy in his expression, feeling sick from the thought of receiving it.

"But when I met our 'friends', everything felt as though it was flipped on its head. I had been working late as usual, and happened upon their meeting by pure chance. I knew immediately that I was going to help them with whatever they needed, having believed in life 'beyond' since my mom explained the stars to me as a child. Everything felt right," the ex-mechanic smiles, feeling the strong emotions that come with the recollection. "Everything just kinda slotted into place, as though my whole world had become perfect."

Keller lets his lips twitch upward at the sight of the woman, her eyes still distant, but no longer misty with saddening remembrance.

"When Sector Seven arrested Sam and Mikaela, I ended up with our 'friends'. We took a detour by my house as there were a few things I thought could be handy in my room," Toby grins to herself at the memory. "I left my father that night, just took my stuff and ran. I stood up for myself and put him in his place for the first time. When the battle came, I fought alongside them because they had given me so much, and it was my duty," she looks the Secretary dead in the eyes. "It was as much as my duty to protect them as it is your duty to protect this country, John. They have become important to me."

They sit in a comfortable silence as Keller takes in the story, a hardened look in his eyes as he thinks.

"You've been through a lot, Toby," he says sympathetically, earning him a frustrated huff. "And you've lost a lot too."

"I have lost everything, and yet, I have gained everything too," Toby replies with a twinkle in her eye, smiling lightly.

"I'm sor—" the woman cuts him off with a rudely dismissive wave.

"Don't," she scowls, sick of feeling pathetic. "Don't pity me. I knew the risks."

Keller coughs uncomfortably, bringing his hands together as he thinks. "What—" the Secretary clears his throat, questioning one of the major things that stuck in his head, " —what do you want to ask 'our friends'?"

"It's more of a statement really," the woman smirks to herself.

"And what is that statement?" Keller prods, tilting his head in question.

"I want to become an Autobot."

★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	11. | | So Much More | |

_"The birth of a star will often go unseen for years."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★  
  
  
  


The woman fiddles nervously with the jewelry around her neck. It's not much more than a ring on a piece of string, but it means the world to her. The ring itself is very dense, the metal crafted expertly into the gorgeous ornament that hangs at the ex-mechanic's neck.

Toby is anxious. Not only that, but she is afraid as well. She's aware that the Autobots were excited to know that she would be coming to the base, and she's aware that she has permission to be at the new NEST base, but it doesn't stop her nerves. The Autobots haven't seen her since the day of her surgery—nearly two months prior to this moment—and don't know how she's been. In summary, she's worried that she'll be judged for her new disability and scared that she won't be accepted properly.

"You good back there, kiddo?" Her uncle asks her, turning in his seat to look at the woman.

"Yeah," her voice cracks as she numbly stares out the window.

Below them, the ocean ripples and sways, its power and might left forgotten in the mid afternoon heat. Small wisps of cloud part for the military plane that Toby had—out of boredom—learnt was called a Boeing C-17 Globemaster iii. Occasionally, a bird comes into view, only to disappear again a moment later.

The woman sighs to herself, now playing with the bandanna she had tied around her neck earlier in the day. She wears an army green sleeveless top that her uncle allowed her to borrow and a pair of denim shorts that only just cover her bandaged stump. Her wheelchair is strapped down against the wall of the plane, between two seats occupied by unfamiliar NEST soldiers that send her odd looks every now and then.

"Take a picture, boys, it'll last longer," Toby snaps, growing tired of the judging stares of the soldiers. Robert chuckles as the young men turn their heads away in a flash.

"Careful, Tobbes, you don't want them fearing you just yet," he laughs, adjusting a bag at his feet.

"Mmm," the woman hums as she 'thinks', shaking her head quickly, "no, I do. 'Cause they shouldn't underestimate the one in a wheelchair," she says the last bit a little louder than necessary for the men to hear her.

She returns her gaze to look out the window, mentally noting the lightening shade of blue in the ocean.

"We are about to make our descent to Diego Garcia. Please remain seated during this time," the captain's voice notifies the men onboard, also causing the young woman to stiffen.

Her grip on the arm of her chair tightens, her knuckles turning white as she gulps. Flying has never been her thing. Sure, she can handle it once up in the air, but taking off and landing? Nope.

"Hey," her uncle soothes from his place a few seats over, giving Toby something to focus on, "it's alright. We're just landing, nothing's gonna happen. Just breathe and stay calm."

One of the young men, likely a new recruit, looks over at the woman in sympathy, but not for her disability. "Nervous flier?"

She nods stiffly, face paling as the plane drops slightly in the air.

"Well," Toby opens an eye at the man's shaky tone, "you're not the only one."

To her left, she sees the soldier, skin pale and shining with sweat. His chestnut hair sticks up at odd angles, looking like he often runs his hands through it, and his eyes remain tightly shut. She would have laughed had she not been feeling the same way.

"The name's Will, Will Evans," he says breathily, still refusing to open his eyes. "I'm working as an engineer and programmer. What about you?"

"Toby Hills," the woman bites her tongue to keep herself from letting out a small scream as the plane drops again. "No occupation as of yet, though I hope to train to be their medic. Currently an inventor in my own time."

"Pleasure," Toby mentally notes that he looks a bit green. "Allow me to restrain myself from being sick as we land."

"Of course," she says with a shaky smile, going back to pressing herself against her chair.

Both visibly relax and sigh in relief when the wheels touch the ground, colour returning to their faces as the plane slows to a stop. Nobody moves until the all clear is given, and as the soldiers unbuckle themselves, Lennox makes his way to the exit, halting to await the new recruits.

"Right," he begins loudly, casting a quick glance at Toby as her uncle helps remove the straps on her wheels, "those of you who have not done this already, you will follow me. Introductions are required for you to work with us, as I'm sure you are aware, and they will take place shortly. Hills," Toby looks up at the captain, "you will be coming also."

She nods, gulping slightly despite the small smile she wears. The cargo door opens, allowing bright sunlight to blind the woman momentarily as her uncle pushes her forward. She passes a nervous, yet excited, looking Will, making her shake her head at him.

"Let's go!" Lennox commands, turning away from the newbies with a fighting smirk.

Robert taps Toby's shoulder to gain her attention. "You'll be giving them a run down on how to treat the 'bots, if that's alright."

"Oh, yeah," she grins. "I'd say I know their personalities quite well, considering that you've never really experienced them when they're not antsy."

Her uncle laughs, pushing her across the hot tarmac towards the tallest airplane hangar that Toby has ever seen. Its roof easily surpasses Optimus' height, the hangar doors left wide open to reveal a line of well polished cars and trucks that do not belong in the military.

"Lennox," the woman calls, making the man stop. "I'll brief them here if that's good with you."

He nods with a smirk, ordering the soldiers to halt. "Before we get started, Hills here is going to brief you on each Autobot."

"Just call me Toby," she shakes her head. "Right, listen up, you lot! There are five Autobots that you will be meeting today. I will inform you of their designation, rank, alt mode, and general personality; trust me, this is important. First, there is Optimus Prime. He is the leader of the Autobots, and I expect you to treat him with the utmost respect, though he is typically calm and stoic, do _not_ , under any circumstance, tick him off. His alt mode is the red and blue Peterbilt semi. Next, is Ironhide. He is the weapons specialist of the group and likes to show off his cannons. Do not panic if he displays them to you with the barrel in your face; he would never hurt a human. You will see him as the black Topkick pickup. Then, we have Ratchet, our medic. He expresses a distaste for humans, and though he will not kill you, there is a chance that he unintentionally will harm you if you annoy him enough. As expected, he's the neon yellow Hummer ambulance. The last of the mechs is Bumblebee, the youngest and also the scout. He has guardianship over Samuel Witwicky, who you might see around this week, and he enjoys music and a good joke. He's basically a teenager to us. See that yellow Camaro with black racing stripes? That's him."

"Ma'am?" One of the recruits says nervously. "You said we'd be meeting five Autobots, but you only mentioned four."

Toby chuckles at his statement, pulling a chain necklace out from under her shirt. On it, a dog tag is displayed, with the name 'Toby Hills' imprinted on it and a contact number beneath. However, instead of a blank space beside the details, there's an Autobot insignia cut in the metal.

"Our last Autobot has no designation, rank, or alt mode. She only has a name and personality," she smirks at their confusion. "I'm Toby Hills. I'm sarcastic, sassy, and analytical. I will warn you now, don't tick me off; I nearly shot a man for insulting my mother, and I can be fragging scary when I want to be. If you are currently judging me for my lack of limbs, I'll have you know that I can have four very powerful Autobots on your aft in a flash and that I single handedly took on Megatron during the Battle of Mission City. Any questions?"

The group gapes at her in shock, only Lennox and Robert chuckling at their expressions. The former pats the woman on the shoulder before turning around to continue leading the recruits who shake themselves out of their surprise.

Robert stays out of the way with Toby, far enough to be unnoticeable but close enough to see the line of Autobots. They watch with grins as the new recruits line up across from the Cybertronians, knowing how unprepared they are for what's about to happen.

Lennox gives the order, and all the vehicles suddenly start shifting, their gears and parts readjusting themselves as the mechs stand up. Most of the recruits back up, three faint, only one seems completely unfazed. Evans.

The young man appears completely entranced with the alien beings, a broad grin across his face. His eyes are locked on Ironhide as the weapons specialist brings out his proton cannons, pointing both at the man. He doesn't flinch, only reaching forward to touch the warm metal.

Ironhide is obviously caught off guard by this, and retracts his cannons before Will can touch them. It's impossible to miss the disappointment in the man's eyes.

"Still pulling that old trick, 'Hide?" Toby tuts as her uncle pushes her into the hanger. "Thought you would've had somethin' new by now."

The reaction is immediate, three of the four mechs stepping over to greet the woman. Optimus stays where he is, servos behind his back with a small smile on his dermas, whereas the others act like puppies, bombarding Toby with questions and small pokes.

"Now, now," she teases, swatting at their digits, "there's no need to get so excited; you'll be seeing a lot more of me in the future."

The two older 'bots back up at her request, both seeming to realise what they had been doing and appear to become a bit awkward. Bumblebee however, remains curious and excitable, whirring and beeping as he pokes the young woman's chest.

"I'm alright, 'Bee," she lies with a laugh. "I've got a thing or two to do, then I can hang out with you, ya big softie."

"~Am not!" His radio whirs as he pouts childishly.

"Yes, you are," she disagrees, gently patting his cheek plate in a soft tease. "Now, uncle. I believe there's someone I am supposed to meet, is there not?"

"Hills," an older man dressed in a US marine uniform with badges adorning his lapel greets formally, stepping out from beside Optimus.

"General Morshower," Toby addresses him, sitting up straighter.

"Toby Hills, it's a pleasure," the general sticks out his left hand for the woman to shake, making her smile as it's clear to her that he's right handed.

"I've been told that you want to discuss something with me, is that correct?" She tilts her head, forcibly trying to be more formal.

"Yes, there is a matter that requires attention," he nods, briefly glancing at the man behind her. "It's your position here at NEST that I have yet to understand."

Three of the four Autobots in the hanger whip around to glare threateningly at the general, causing Toby's lips to twitch upwards in an amused smile. She studies the man's stance and posture, then his hardened expression, finally searching his eyes for his intentions. A smirk takes its place on her face as she finds what she's looking for.

"With all due respect, sir," she starts, "anyone who thinks that I am anything but capable needs to rethink their perspective and get a smack round the head. I am willing to take on any and every task assigned to me to prove my ability. Just because I'm disabled does not mean that I'm unfit for the work expected of everybody, it means that I get to prove my worth among the ranks. But I am not here for the military or the government; I'm here for the Autobots that saved our planet and my life."

There's a pause as the general's expression remains neutral, Toby quirking a brow with an expectant smile. Then he smirks, and the tension in the air eases into a more comfortable atmosphere.

"You'll do great, soldier."

"Autobot, inventor, ex-mechanic maybe, but I'm not a soldier," the woman huffs factually. "I pray you understand that I take my orders from Optimus Prime, not you."

"And you will take orders from General Morshower when they are given, unless otherwise informed," the Autobot leader states, the slight amusement in his voice is hard to miss.

"You're no fun," she frowns, shaking her head before looking up at her elder. "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, that is all. Welcome to NEST," he nods with a small smirk.

"It's a privilege," she says, watching his back as he marches away, called by his unending list of duties.

Toby chuckles lightly as her uncle lets out the breath he had been holding. "You have some serious guts, Tobbes."

"I gave him the answers he wanted. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Yeah, but I still thought you were going to snap at him for questioning your ability," Robert says breathlessly, though the smirk is evident in his voice.

The woman hums, moving her gaze to the Autobot leader as he speaks with Lennox.

Feeling a pair of eyes on his frame, Optimus looks away from the captain, finding the cloudy eyes of the young ex-mechanic. He frowns slightly at the distant and troubled emotions swirling in them, like glacier ice that has been abused by the forces of nature, making it lose its gleam.

Subtly, the Prime dismisses Lennox, delaying their conversation until a later time. He stands, noting that Toby has yet to notice his movement, and leans over to Ratchet, tapping his shoulder plate to gain his attention.

A few words are shared between them, both expressing concern but the medic denying a request before Optimus moves away, leaving him to dwell in his thoughts. Ratchet hums lowly, eyeing his friend as he makes his presence known to the woman, consequently causing her to jump in surprise. Her elder relative pats her shoulder and leaves the two alone, having received some sort of request of privacy.

The old medic watches with crossed arms as his leader picks up his charge—wheelchair and all—and exits the main hangar with a few short words to the woman. He taps a digit in anticipation and agitation, optic brows furrowing at a fleeting thought before thinking better of it.

He turns on his pede, only to lean backwards in discomfort as he discovers the close proximity of Ironhide. The weapons specialist wears a smirk, one that makes his comrade cringe, and rests his servos on his hips. Not a good sign.

"You should tell her."

Ratchet blinks in confusion. "What?"

Ironhide rolls his optics. "You care for her do you not?"

"I do not understand where you are going with this."

"Do you care for her or not?" The weapons specialist asks irritably.

"Yes," he says slowly, unsure of what is trying to be proven, "just like we all do."

Ironhide groans, venting heavily as he rubs a servo down his face plates. "But you care more than the rest of us."

"I wouldn't sa—" the medic's optics widen and a disgusted expression form on his face plates as he realises what his friend is insinuating. "No, Ironhide! Primus no!"

His companion grins at his reaction, apparently thinking that he is correct in his assumptions. Those thoughts are cut short when the elder mech smacks him hard round the helm.

"No," he begins, ever so slightly calming his temper. "No. I do not feel that way about her. She is my charge and my friend. Nothing more."

"Is that so?" Ironhide grunts, rubbing his helm sourly.

" _Yes_. I am concerned about her well being. I doubt she would feel that way towards anyone, Cybertronian _or_ human," he huffs, digits twitching as he wishes to wield something more than empty air in his servo.

"Alright, alright," the weapons specialist grunts in humiliation. "At least tell her of your concerns; you haven't said a word to her yet. And I heard you were the first person she asked for when she woke."

Ratchet's helm snaps up at the information, processor audibly whirring as he tries to figure out why. Ironhide shifts a bit on his pedes, uncomfortable with the undying stare of the medic that seems to be staring straight at his spark, despite him not actually being aware of it.

"Ask her about it, don't just stare at _me_ ," he finally says, making Ratchet shake his helm to clear his thoughts.

"Forgive me, I was-thinking," the medic gazes briefly at the open hangar doors where Optimus disappeared with Toby.

"Clearly," Ironhide grunts, leaving the mech to his thoughts.

☆★☆

It was nearly supper time before the pair were seen again, both coming into the hangar to shelter from the oncoming rainstorm. Even then they did not separate, with Toby on Optimus' right shoulder and her wheelchair nowhere in sight, they stayed together, continuing in deep discussion. The air around them was tense and direct, and many times, when people looked, the young woman had small tears running down her face. None had dared to interrupt them, but several had tried to eavesdrop. Such an instance would end with the person being glared at by the duo, most finding that Toby's dark expression was enough to induce nightmares.

When dinner was actually laid out, the young woman had made a brief appearance in the mess hall, this time in her wheelchair. She stayed long enough to collect a plate of food and consume it, but disappeared again shortly after, her uncle claiming that she was retiring to her room early. Neither soldier nor Autobot saw her until the following morning.

An orange glow settles along the vast expanse of the horizon, the sun not quite having risen over it at the early hour. Sea-green waves lap at the sandy stretch of beach, interrupted only by small stones and a short concrete barrier. A young woman admires the view from the corner of the military air strip, the ocean breeze blowing her hair in a light and playful manner. Her fingers absently tap the rest of her permanent seat, her icy eyes distant as the wakening sun's blaze fights a nonexistent battle with the blue in her orbs.

A gentle sigh escapes her softly parted lips, the salty air silently countering her warm breath in the early morning light. Involuntary tears roll down her already red cheeks as she takes in the beauty of it all. A short strand of hair slides in front of her eye as she looks down at her lap, guilt and worthlessness filling her entire being.

She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be allowed. She's a pathetic waste of a person, unable to do anything useful to anyone. Why should _she_ of all people, be allowed so much when she can only give so little? There's nothing she can do for the people here. She is _worthless_.

The ground trembles, announcing the arrival of an Autobot. The woman glances at the Cybertronian, only wishing to know who it is, but freezes when she finds a pair of familiar optics already locked on her.

"Why are you crying?"

She scowls slightly and touches her cheek with a shaking hand, eyes widening as she feels the wet skin. She didn't even realise she'd been crying so hard.

"Toby," the Autobot kneels, causing her to look away from his kind features, "tell me. Please."

Her lip trembles and her eyes brim with tears, so close to just bursting like a popped balloon. A gentle digit lifts her chin, bringing her to look him in the optics. Nothing but kindness and acceptance fill the medic's azure optics, only a slash of guilt hiding in the background. The sight alone is enough to break her forced control.

Without a word, Toby bursts into sobs, the digit still beneath her chin as her mental walls crumble and release the flood of emotions. Tears run down her face in unwavering streams, blurring her vision and dampening her shirt. Her throat closes itself as she gasps desperately for air, making her whimper pathetically. She grabs the digit with her hand, bringing it closer in a sort of hug, a source of comfort that reassures her that someone is there.

Then, hesitantly, almost awkwardly but far more caring, another digit joins the first, settling closer to her body. As the woman hugs him tighter, the mech scoops her up from the wheelchair with his other servo, bringing him close to his chassis. She buries her face in his armour, sobbing even harder as years of pent up thoughts and emotions come out through her tears.

A digit starts to trail down her back, rubbing soothing circles along her spine. Her shaking slows to a more reasonable tremble as she focuses on the warm metal embracing her. Carefully, she forces herself to breathe deeply, taking in the comforting scent of her guardian and the crisp, ocean air.

"Easy, Toby. It's alright," his chassis rumbles as he speaks softly.

"No-no it's not," the young woman mutters. "Nothing's alright."

The neon mech hushes her gently, shifting his position as he sits down. "Then tell me what's wrong."

She says nothing for a moment, pulling herself closer to him. "Me..."

Ratchet nearly reels back at her response, only restraining himself for her sake. He doesn't understand. Why—how could she be the issue? He may not have known her for long, but he knows that she's the most intelligent, brave, compassionate, and _loving_ human he has come to know. The only one who holds a place above her is Optimus Prime himself.

"Why are you wrong, Toby?"

"Look at me," she whimpers. "I'm useless. I can't do anything. I'm just a worthless piece of scrap."

His optics widen and his intake opens in surprise and disbelief. He shakes his helm sternly. "Scrap is not worthless. _You_ are not worthless. Think about what Ironhide can make from a piece of scrap. He can make almost _anything_. You are the same. You can do _anything_. If you're a piece of scrap, you're a lot more precious than you think."

"But I can't _do_ anything!" She shouts suddenly, pounding on his chest plates with her fist. "I'm missing two limbs, Ratchet! Open your optics and see!"

"I am seeing! I see a perfectly capable young woman that has a whole life ahead of her," he lowers his voice to a gentler tone. "You can learn. You can live."

"But you can't fix me!" Ratchet flinches, feeling his spark tug at those words.

"Why would I fix what's not broken?" The young woman freezes, slowly looking up at the medic with bloodshot eyes. "You are not broken, Toby. Think of what you would call a violin; if you play it and it sounds wrong, what do you do? You tune it. It didn't need fixing, just an adjustment."

"Could you?" It comes out so quiet that the medic nearly misses it.

"Could I what?" He asks, confused by her question.

"Could you 'tune' me? Help me?"

He hums, having had one particular thought wedged in his processor since the 'incident' as he now calls it. "There is one way that I know."

"What is it?" She tilts her head in curiosity.

"To put it simply, it's cybernetic implantation."

She gives him a blank stare of disbelief. "You do realise that if it wasn't me you were talking to, they'd have no idea what you just said, right?"

"Yes, well, it is you that I'm talking to," the mech grumbles.

"So, I'd be a sort of cyborg?" Toby chuckles weakly at the thought.

"Not quite, but, yes."

The woman smiles, placing her forehead on his chassis. "That's going to be a lot of paperwork, isn't it?"

Her guardian smiles, changing his grip ever so slightly to get a better look at her. "I'm afraid it will be."

"Oh, and Ratchet?" He raises an optic brow at her drained form. "My mom and I say thank you."  
  
  


★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	12. | | This is New | |

_"The stars that are noticed first are often false, satellites sent into the sky by mankind."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

When Toby said that the whole ordeal was going to involve a lot of paperwork, she hadn't been expecting the amount that had accumulated on her desk through the week. And she was expecting a _lot_.

The week had passed relatively quickly, though likely due to the fact that the young woman never once stepped outside, it was a relief to both the medic and ex-mechanic. There had been countless meetings and a list of people a mile long who wanted to shout at them. Very few were willing to allow the pair to go through with, or even plan the procedure, but Robert Epps and William Lennox stood beside them through every step. Of course, their opinions changed slightly when Toby started speaking to Figs in Spanish.

"¿Tienes más papeleo para firmar o leer?" The young woman tiredly looks up at the soldier, head in her hand and food untouched.

"Doc bot te necesita," he smiles, patting her on the shoulder before sitting down with his tray of food.

The others in the group, members of Lennox's team in Qatar, groan dramatically at the use of the language. Robert especially shoots his niece a glare.

"Do you have any idea how long we've been trying to make him stop speaking spanish?" The sergeant demands, pressing his agitation with a pointed finger.

"¿Más largo de lo que puedo imaginar?" She smirks as he face palms, and rubs her eyes to rid them of exhaustion before turning to the bilingual soldier. "Did he say when?"

He shrugs, ignoring the relieved sighs of his teammates. "Right away, I guess."

"M'kay," she glances at Robert as he devours his burrito like an animal. "Can I borrow your radio, uncle?"

Seeing that he's unable to respond, Lennox takes the radio off his friend's belt and hands it to the woman with a smirk, earning a glare from him.

"Thanks. Also, uncle, aunt Monique would be disturbed by your table manners," she grins, taking her time to adjust the channel on the plastic device.

With the final adjustments made, she lifts it to her mouth. "Hey, Piston."

"~Don't call me that~" the men at the table laugh at his reply, making Toby roll her eyes.

"Sure thing, Piston. I've been told that you need me?"

"~Yes~"

"Right, well, what kind of thing is it? Because if it's a meeting, I'll smarten up, but if it's just more documents I won't bother."

"~Just come to the med bay~"

"Oookay," she says slowly, brows furrowed in confusion. "I'll see you in five."

The woman hums as the connection crackles out, quickly returning it to her uncle before abandoning her dinner. Lennox sends her an encouraging smile, while Robert just continues to stuff his face.

"Could one of you boys take my tray when you're done?" Figs sends her a thumbs up, just beginning to eat his bowl of gumbo. "Oh, and uncle," the sergeant glances at her briefly, "gators do have the most succulent meat."

The table erupts in groans and choked fits of laughter, and the ex-mechanic carefully turns away, using a small joystick to direct both wheels. NEST soldiers and workers alike all clear a path for her as she exits the mess hall, most sending her unreadable looks.

Rounding a corner into the hallway, Toby forces herself to stop on a dime, nearly running into the back of a young man with soaking wet hair. He takes no notice of her, fiddling with something in his hands.

The woman coughs subtly, causing him to whip around to face her. His eyes go wide in surprise and his cheeks quickly redden in embarrassment as he realises what he was doing. A multicoloured cube rests in his hands, which he hastily attempts to stuff in his pocket.

"Having fun are we, Evans?" She drawls cheekily.

"Toby! I-uh," he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Don't panic, I'm just teasing," Toby waves her hand dismissively. "Anyways, I'm off to the med bay to sort out whatever Ratchet needs me to deal with. Have fun solving your Rubix!"

She avoids her friend, going around him to continue on her way, not failing to catch the happy grin on his face. A crease forms between her eyebrows in her puzzlement, suspicious about his sudden change in expression. Nevertheless, she makes her way down the gargantuan halls towards the smaller hangar that has been fitted as a med bay for the Autobots and completely reorganised by Ratchet, twice.

When she enters the room, she's surprised to find the medic welding something together, occasionally glancing at the giant computer screen beside him. Usually he's grumbling over one of the 'bots, typically Ironhide, or completely glued to his computers. That being said, there was one time when she had to practically dive out of her wheelchair to avoid a flying wrench. It's safe to say that Bumblebee will never tease the medic to quite that extent again.

Toby cautiously knocks her knuckles on the wall, making him look up from his work. It's hard to miss the freakishly cheerful atmosphere around the mech, and it makes the woman shift uncomfortably.

"So, do you have anything for me?" She asks carefully.

"Yes, I have news," the woman visibly stiffens, every emotion imaginable conflicting in her mind. "It's been cleared."

She's pretty sure she stopped breathing, and she almost cries in relief and happiness. Toby slumps back in her wheelchair and laughs, cheering at the achievement. No words can possibly express how she feels. Nothing comes close to this.

"Would you like to see?" Her guardian asks with a small smile on his derma, amusement filling him as she frantically nods her head, unable to form words.

Ratchet carefully scoops her up, gently setting her between his shoulder plate and chassis. As he returns to his project, he notes how her hand trembles on his armour, a clear sign of her joy. With pride, he displays the lump of welded metal to the woman, watching in amusement as her eyes widen at the sight.

"Is that—?" The medic nods in answer to her stunned question.

"It's to be your stabiliser," he explains while she studies it profusely.

"I'll help you where I can," she pips, the smile having yet to leave her face.

"I can do most of it, Toby," Ratchet assures.

She shakes her head with a chuckle. "Just because you can make yourself our size, doesn't mean you won't need the extra aid."

"Maybe so, but I'd rather know that there are no mistakes."

At this, the woman huffs, bottom lip stuck out in a pout. She scowls at the medic, the mech completely unaware that he just insulted the young inventor.

"Thanks."

Catching the thick sarcasm in her word, Ratchet glances at her, flinching at the harsh glare. He vents, pinching his olfactory sensor with two digits, a habit he picked up from the young woman.

"You may help," the scowl disappears immediately, "but I will be building both it and your servo."

"That's better than nothing," she admits, shrugging nonchalantly.

Several hours pass without interruption, the only words said between the pair being suggestions and calculation corrections, mainly given by Toby. Ratchet stays almost silent, thinking deeply about the woman's place with the Autobots.

"Toby," she looks up from the schematics in her hand with a smile, "how would you like to become my trainee?"

If possible, her expression brightens even more, her small smile becoming a wide grin.

"Yes!" She squeals, bouncing in excitement before clearing her throat. "I would be honoured to study by your side, my friend."

Ratchet smiles. "Shall we begin, then?"

☆★☆

With a soft groan, Toby opens her eyes to the world of swirling colours. Everything feels numb, that she can be sure of. Especially after spending roughly twelve hours conscious through the most bizarre procedure she had ever been apart of.

A white light shines in front of her eyes, and in curiosity, she watches it bounce back and forth.

"That's it, follow the light," a deep, yet familiar, voice grumbles, though the words send the young woman into a bit of a panic.

"What?!" She jolts up, accidentally smashing her head into the other's. With another groan, she settles back down on what she presumes is a bed, rubbing her forehead with a hand.

"At least you're awake now," the small mech grunts, rubbing his own helm in pain.

"I'm sorry, Piston, but your choice of words weren't the best," Toby chuckles, gingerly scratching the back of her neck.

"Don't call me that."

"So what, Piston?" She childishly sticks her tongue out at her elder, observing his tiny frame as he shuffles around the sterilised room. Sure, she had known about his 'ability' to displace his own mass, in fact, she was the only human he had told. Not that she had been surprised, he really did not like humans save for herself.

"It's annoying and not my designation," he marches back over to her side with a sort of scanner in his servo, sitting down on an unoccupied section of the bed. Almost as though he's attempting to pester her, he roughly checks her pulse from her left wrist and forces her to open her mouth as he tries to spot any symptoms.

Irritated, Toby swats him away, only to freeze mid-swipe. Her hand. Correction: her _servo_. Good flipping Primus. It's _her_ servo. Where there once was nothing but empty air, a gunmetal grey _arm_ —wrist, servo, digits and all—hangs, it's armoured plating jagged and slightly too large for the soft protoform underneath. When the woman moves her digits, she can see the cables and pistons shifting to complete the action. It's _beautiful_.

Seeing her dumbfounded expression, the neon medic gives a rare grin, grasping her servo with his own before giving it a light squeeze. She gasps, not expecting to _feel_ the action. Ratchet vents softly, shaking his helm as he continues his check up, not letting go of the woman's servo.

The digits of his free servo gently graze her new appendage, slowly trailing them up to the scarred flesh of her biological arm, scanning the raw muscle before wrapping it in bandages. Toby watches him work with wide eyes, not entirely sure if she's registered the events properly yet.

Having completed his check of her upper half, he looks into her eyes with a questioning gaze, his unspoken query already answered with a small nod. Ratchet carefully peels the white sheets away, smirking at the woman's increased heart rate as she sees her legs for the first time.

Similar to the Autobots', her stabiliser consists of many interlocking parts, though much of her armour slides over smaller and thinner plates due to the need to make it look more like it's biological counterpart. Her pede, however, resembles more of a toy robot's foot, as both Toby and Ratchet had difficulty creating it to allow her balance and mobility while also being able to fit in a human shoe.

Tears prick the woman's eyes as she wiggles her 'toes', being able to feel them move becoming too much for her to handle. A small sob of happiness is muffled by the hand covering her mouth, swiftly removed by the medic as he assesses her mental state. She gives him a watery grin, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Ratchet," she says with a hoarse whisper. "Thank you."

Just as the mech thinks he's about to get away, she latches onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck cables. Unsure as to how he is meant to respond, he remains frozen while the young woman nuzzles comfortably beneath his chin.

"It's called a hug," her voice is muffled by his armour, though he can still hear her chuckle. "You're meant to do it back."

Hesitantly, the old mech places his arms around her torso, being careful to hinder his strength. They stay that way for a minute or so, the situation growing slightly less awkward for Ratchet as the woman snuggles into his chassis.

A thunderous 'bang' startles the two apart, the sound echoing through the halls of the NEST base. As if he had suddenly remembered something, the medic clears his vocal pipes, pulling back from the hug.

"Do you feel any pain?"

Toby shakes her head. "Other than being sore, no."

Ratchet gently takes her servo and pricks one of her digits with something in his own. Gaining no reaction, he raises an optical brow.

"Did that not hurt?" He questions, unsure.

Again, Toby shakes her head. "I only felt the pressure."

The medic hums thoughtfully, making a mental note. "I believe that we may have miscalculated something. Keep an optic on it."

She nods, but grins widely when Ratchet hands her a set of clothes, even though it's only the basics. Taking them from his servo, she twirls a finger, making roll his optics as he turns his back.

"If you need help, ask," he demands, hearing several thumps alongside rustling fabric. Another thump sounds, followed immediately by a quiet curse, though he does not turn round, respecting his patient's request.

A short pause and moment's worth of groaning, the young woman asks for help. With her cheeks bright red, she avoids the medic's optics, freezing slightly as the metal of his softly traces the issue to its source. He carefully helps her pull her new appendage through the arm of her oversized t-shirt, making sure it doesn't catch on the fabric.

With the problem solved, Toby huffs quietly in embarrassment before taking the offered arm of her guardian for balance. The medic doesn't say a word, allowing his charge to put her weight on him as he guides her out of the human medical bay.

They walk in silence, though Toby pouts at the height difference between the two, having been used to being the tallest, it's a bit unsettling for someone to be two whole heads taller than her. Occasionally, a loud noise or shout makes the limping woman jump, only to be reassured that everything is alright by the mech.

In sudden brightness, they enter the main hangar, finding Ironhide firing small projectiles at targets with a smiling Evans at his pedes and Optimus conversing with Lennox. The captain responds to the Autobot's conversation in a quiet tone, gently trying to calm a pacing Robert Epps.

The young woman smiles weakly, her energy drained from the walk, and raises two fingers to her lips. A shrill whistle pierces the heavy air of the hangar, making all occupants to turn their heads to the cause.

With the sudden attention, Toby shoves herself away from her guardian—much to his protest—and starts to hobble towards the small group. Her smile broadens into a grin as her uncle rushes across the concrete floor, followed by a much more calm group of friends.

The African-American man sweeps her off her feet, the woman crying out in surprise as he lifts her into the air. She laughs loudly, the older man placing her on the ground before hugging her tightly.

"Uncle—can't-breathe," she gasps, patting him in yield.

"Sorry," he apologises, beaming at her. "You can walk!"

"Yeah, and I'm Mary Poppins too!" She teases, shoving him slightly with her servo. "Of course I can walk! That was one point of the procedure!"

"It is good to see you happy, Toby," the woman grins at Optimus, but turns once hearing the sound of shifting metal.

The medic nods at her in acknowledgement, now standing at his proper height again. Before anything more can be said, he delicately scoops her up, mindful of her recovering body.

"Y'all better prepare yourselves," Toby grins cheekily at the two Autobots, glancing at the humans on the ground, "'cause I'm gonna to be the scariest medic you've ever seen!"

Ironhide grunts humorously, shaking his helm. "I'm afraid Hatchet already has that title."

Robert gives him a wide eyed look, shuffling backwards slightly. "You've just doomed yourself then. There ain't nothing that'll stop her now, not since she has a name to claim."

The weapons specialist appears to be about to disagree, but stops with his intake wide open upon spotting the glint in the inventor's eye.

"Don't challenge her."

"Too late," Toby cackles, already plotting. She cracks her neck, formulating plans and schematics, making mental notes on what might need upgrading.

A low hum interrupts her thought process, causing her to look at Ratchet. "Not yet, there's still a lot of training for you to complete."

She shakes her head, correcting herself. "Well, I can make stuff now, so I'll focus on that and my studies."

"Thank the heavens," she hears her uncle mutter, chuckling at his relief.

"Don't worry, I'm sure there are more than enough duties to keep me from achieving that goal for quite some time," the woman smirks, turning her head. "Right, Optimus?"

The Autobot leader nods slowly, nearly smiling as he watches the remade woman salute to him.

As she makes her formal gesture, Toby observes those around her, smiling at all she has gained despite her losses. Friends. Comrades. _Family_. And she's perfectly happy with that.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★


	13. Epilogue

_"Shooting stars are what happens when a child needs hope."_

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

All is quiet in the hanger, most of the Autobots having yet to wake from recharge. Even the sun has yet to rise, leaving the building in darkness. A single light flickers brightly behind a set of cloudy glass doors.

Sparks litter the floor of the workshop, spraying in all directions as they're commanded to weld two pieces of metal plating together. A young woman stands at the source of the grinding metal; her fiery hair tied back in a messy ponytail and a welder's mask shielding her face. She works on the shell of a 2007 Kawasaki Ninja, modifying its outer parts to fit her carefully designed engine.

Metallica plays quietly as she works, the woman bobbing her head in sync to the rapid beat and humming along.

"What are you doing?"

The woman shrieks, jolting upright and banging her head on a piece of pipe, resulting in her dropping back to her knees in agony. A small flame bursts into appearance on the hem of her shirt, the welding tool still active in her servo. The woman shrieks again, switching off the welder and chucking it as far from her as possible as she frantically attempts to pat out the fire. Failing in that, she grabs a fire extinguisher from the top of a nearby table and sprays it on herself, hissing at the cold.

Someone chuckles behind her, causing her to whip around to face them.

"Ironhide! We've talked about this!" She growls at the mech standing just outside the garage type doors, rubbing the top of her head in pain.

"It's not my fault that you didn't notice me," he teases, smirking at the glare he receives.

She sighs, admitting defeat as she removes her welder's mask. "What do you want?"

"Lennox requires you in the main room. Something to do with new recruits and a contract," he shrugs, offering a servo for her to step on.

The woman curses, pinching the bridge of her nose with two digits. "Alright, just let me grab my coffee."

She stands, stretching her back and shoulders, the popping sound making the weapons specialist cringe, and picks up an oversized thermos with the words 'Let me finish my coffee first' printed in white.

"Ready?"

"Not really," she sighs, tiredly rubbing her eyes. "Could we make a quick stop at the mess hall? I haven't eaten anything yet."

"If we must," Ironhide groans, earning him a smack on the arm as the woman places herself on his servo.

"Yes, we must. I have to chase off another government worker and I want to be intimidating without a growling stomach," she flails her hand dramatically, holding onto his digit for balance while he walks.

"Another?"

"Word of my inventions has apparently spread; multiple governments are trying to get me to signs contracts for them that automatically makes anything I design their property," she groans in annoyance and exhaustion.

The weapons specialist chuckles lightly, allowing the woman off to snatch a breakfast sandwich from the mess hall. She returns quickly, stuffing her breakfast in her mouth before scaling the Autobot and plopping herself on his shoulder.

"Content?" Ironhide asks as she eagerly bites into her food.

She nods ecstatically, unable to say a word. Any crumbs are soon wiped away with the fabric of her black shirt before she washes her meal down with a swig of black coffee.

The mech shakes his helm, making his way through the halls as the inventor fills her empty stomach with food and caffeine. He glances at her once in a while, making sure that she's not doing anything ridiculous or falling off his shoulder. That has happened once.

Arguing voices start to make themselves known to the pair, two of which can be recognised as Ratchet and Lennox, but the third remains unknown. The further Ironhide walks, the closer they get, giving Toby a feeling of dread as she makes out pieces of the argument. It takes a total of five seconds for the weapons specialist to understand what's being said, but when he does, he only grunts in annoyance.

"Contract, huh?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the young woman groans, sipping her coffee in preparation.

They turn a corner, and Ironhide immediately ducks, a spinning wrench barely missing Toby's head and creating a sizeable dent in the wall behind. The inventor doesn't even flinch.

A group of people fill the med bay, one man in front shouting furiously at the neon medic and captain while the others cower frightfully from the raging mech. Lennox appears the most calm, though his expression shows that he is less than happy with the situation, whereas Ratchet looks like his energeon is boiling, a servo already grasping another wrench.

"Does someone care to tell me what's going on?"

Everyone spins to face the new duo, the two NEST members visibly relaxing at the sight. The man in front of the group adjusts a pair of glasses on his face, stiffening angrily before storming forwards with a briefcase swinging in his hand.

Ironhide looks like he wants to shoot the man on the spot, but Toby pats his armour reassuringly before he sets her down. She walks towards the mystery man, calmly sipping from her gigantic thermos while he starts shouting at her in another language.

When the man reaches her, she stops, appearing unamused and frankly quite terrifying in the fluorescent lighting. With a heavy sigh, she disdainfully finishes her coffee, licking her lips of the energy giving drink.

"Não," he glares at the woman at her word, silently daring her to say anything else.

"Não?"

"Oh, cut the scrap. We all know you can speak English," she snaps, annoyance making its appearance.

"So, what?" He growls, earning himself a sharp glare.

" _So_ , you can either escort yourself out, or I can personally drag you by the hem of your—what is it?—five thousand dollar suit!" Toby snarls, but the man seems unaffected.

Just as he starts to make his business known loud and clear, jabbing his finger in her chest, she swiftly grabs his tie and hoists him up to look her in the eyes. Clearly startled, the man starts jabbering nonsense before a hard shake shuts him up.

"I will tell you what I have told everyone else," the woman grits her teeth, making him quiver. "'No. I work with extraterrestrial beings, making upgrades and modified engines for their alts. I am not required to share my knowledge or work with other countries and governments. Therefore, I have decided that the human race will do better without my creations and instead gift them to the species defending our planet.' Do not return here seeking my signature again. Got that?"

He nods his head frantically, looking like he's about to blubber.

Receiving that final motion of understanding, Toby drops the man, but is quick to yank him to his feet by roughly snatching the collar of his maroon suit. With a last glare and an intimidating baring of teeth, she leaves him and his group to scatter, escorted by an impressed and slightly freaked out Ironhide.

After watching them disappear around the corner, the young woman spins to face her superiors, dusting off her shirt with a servo. The expressions of awe and amusement are enough to make her smile, though it drops quickly after remembering that her coffee's gone.

"So, new recruits?" She asks Lennox with a small huff, earning a quiet chuckle from the captain.

"Indeed," he brushes past her, Ratchet reluctantly following behind.

"Are we talking human or Cybertronian?"

"A bit of both," the medic answers for him, servos clasped firmly behind his back.

"Let's see then, shall we?" Toby skips for a moment as she catches up with the fast pace of the captain.

The man marches up the stairs of a nearby walkway, stopping at the edge for a clear view of the hangar doors. Ratchet halts beside them, a servo resting on the metal platform.

With a short nod from Lennox, the doors start sliding open, the early morning sun momentarily blinding both humans before their eyes adjust.

A wide grin stretches across the woman's face, eyes glinting with something unrecognisable as she sees the line of vehicles. Three colourful bikes and one silver Stingray Corvette.

"This should be fun!"

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I know this was probably a cringey read, please tell me what you think. I'm not looking for praise, just ways for me to improve my writing. I sincerely hope you've enjoyed and wish to see you around for the rest of the series.  
> Have a great day!


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